Situation Normal All Fouled Up
by JoBethMegAmy. my homegirls
Summary: Kate Todd and Jane Rizzoli meet up at a lesbian bar where one of them is under-cover.
1. Set Up

**A/N - please read**: I know R&I is set in Boston and NCIS is in D.C., but I couldn't think of a plausible reason for these characters to be near each other, so for now, just go with the notion that they're all in the same general area. This is my first stab at the characters from NCIS, so... we'll see how this goes. I just haven't been able to get the picture of Jane and Kate together out of my head. So again, we'll see how this goes, if anyone's into it.  
Oh, and yeah. I basically lifted certain elements from "I Kissed a Girl" and put the NCIS team on it instead of BPD.

* * *

Apparently the bar was under new management. The owner, Scout Turner, seemed harried and a little annoyed as she watched these feds set up shop in one of the club's back rooms, and she was particularly unhappy with how lecherously gleeful one of them seemed. Her only comfort lay in the fact that the boss of the outfit seemed ready to handle this in a professional manner, and that their female agent looked ready to crack and slap her co-worker on the head if he said one more lewd thing. Her eyes raked over the agent's form, a small smirk playing at her lips.

The smartass noticed. "How's she look?" he asked. "Think she'll pass for a lesbian?"

Agent Todd shot him a peeved look, the type Scout recognized as that of a woman who was clearly trying to assert her own security in this kind of situation. There were countless ways Scout could have responded to Agent DiNozzo's tactless question, but rather than focus on giving him a lecture none of them had time for, she chose to focus her attention on Agent Todd instead.

"I think the important thing is that she's going to draw plenty of attention tonight," she said. Shooting a subtle wink at Kate, Scout headed for the door and said, "I'll leave you guys to it. If you need anything else, just let me know."

"Ya_hoo!_" Tony crowed, holding up his hand for a high-five once Scout had left. "Hear that, Kate? You're gonna have pussy _galore _tonight!"

"DiNozzo!" Kate groaned.

"What? Can't appreciate a classic Bond reference, Caitlin?"

"Wow. Given your level of excitement, anyone would think _you're _the one who'll be getting some tonight."

Kate groaned again when she realized how that had sounded, and Tony cackled gleefully. "So you _do _think you'll be getting some tonight? Oh, Kate. I don't know if you'd be ready for that yet. But keep your earpiece and hidden camera on, and I'd be happy to help you with thing if they ever reach a more carnal nature. I've seen a number of excellent films detailing the ways in which two women might blissfully come togeth—"

He was abruptly cut off when his boss slapped the back of his head. "DiNozzo," Gibbs said in a dangerously quiet voice. "Do you realize how lucky it is for you to be Kate's co-worker right now?"

"Yeah!" Tony laughed. "It means I get to be in on the action tonight! Vicariously speaking, that is."

"It means I don't take you in for hassling a federal agent," Gibbs said. "But one more of your cracks and I might have to report you for sexual harassment."

Tony pulled a wounded puppy face. "Boss, you wouldn't."

"No?"

"No. I mean…well, you never have before…"

"Rule number eight: never take anything for granted," Gibbs muttered. "Keep your thoughts to yourself, or I'll put you on perimeter with McGee."

McGee, who had just finished hooking up a feed from their computer to the camera hidden on Kate's person, scowled at Tony. The look went unnoticed by Kate, who said to Gibbs, "I think McGee should be here instead of Tony, seeing as he's, you know, actually _mature _about his work."

"Mature? The man wears a Gumby and Pokey watch on the job," DiNozzo said.

"I've told you a thousand times, Tony, it's a collectible," McGee grumbled, scowling again. "A novelty item for adults."

"See, Probie, the words 'novelty' and 'adult' don't really go together. Well no, they can, but they shouldn't when discussing child-related memorabilia."

Noting the now-disturbed looks on both Kate and Tony's faces, Gibbs talked over McGee's flushed attempts to explain himself further, "Let's get back on the case, shall we?"

"You mean Kate's future foray into the world of lady-lovin' ladies?" Tony asked, wriggling his eyebrows at Kate.

"DiNozzo, you'd better shut up—"

"Oh-ho! Boss, she's blushing! I don't think Kate's cut out for this. Good little Catholic girl to the end, she can't do this."

"If Kate couldn't do this, she wouldn't have said she could," Gibbs cut through before Kate could retort on her own behalf. "For crying out loud, DiNozzo, drop it. You're damn good at what you do, but sometimes, I swear—you make me wonder if I'm running a team of federal agents or a class of sixth graders!"

A new voice entered the conversation as Abby walked into the room. "Oh, Gibbs, give Tony a _little _credit." She smirked and sauntered over, resting her arm casually on Tony's shoulder. "I'd at least put him in as a freshman in high school."

Tony, not to mention McGee (not to mention Kate) found themselves a tad distracted by Abby's outfit. She was thrilled to be getting involved in another under-cover case, this time as a waitress at the Merch, the bar they were currently about to investigate. It was going to be her job to collect forensic evidence from the women Her uniform didn't consist of much actual material, meaning the polka-dotted fabric left very little to the imagination—which, especially in Tony's case, didn't take much to be stimulated.

"Why, Ms. Sciuto," Tony said, his voice smooth and deep and his eyes trained directly at Abby's chest. "Anyone tell you that you look absolutely _breast_-taking tonight?"

Abby laughed and playfully smacked the back of Tony's head, saving Gibbs the effort. "Tony, I love you, and yet guys like you are the reason I almost don't want to date guys anymore. Am I right, Kate?"

Gibbs' eyes went straight towards Kate, and before she had time to answer, he said, "Or you could avoid dating pigs. Choice is yours."

"Hey, c'mon!" Tony said, holding his hands palms-up. "All I'm saying is that if Kate really wants to attract attention tonight, she should be dressed a little more like Abby."

"Kate's not here to attract attention," Gibbs said heavily. "She's here to potentially attract a killer. One we know is drawn to women of a more… conservative nature."

While the setting may not have been particularly conservative, Kate's appearance was. She luxuriated in the opportunity to wear heeled boots and a nice skirt, options she rarely had on the job. Her cashmere top was dark red and long-sleeved, hugging her tightly and going up to her collar. While Abby wore a liberal amount of makeup, Kate's was subdued: her lipstick was barely noticeable, only slightly less so than the dark brown eyeliner she had applied. She brushed her bangs out of her face and cleared her throat, hands at her hips.

"Everything set up, Abby?"

"Yup. That's just the reason I came up here, in fact. McGee, it's time for you to head on outside, and Kate, you should get going, too. Y'know, down that back staircase Scout pointed out. It might seem a little weird to some patrons if you were here before opening."

"Right," Kate said a little breathlessly, smoothing out her skirt.

She prepared to follow Abby and McGee out the door, but Gibbs caught her gently by the elbow. "You ready?" he asked quietly.

Putting on the best smile she could, she answered, "Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

**A/N**: Chapters will be longer from here on out. I just had to get this out tonight. And in my haste to do so, I failed to mention that I owe this idea to Sophie (streepytime!) for first mentioning the possibility of a Jane/Kate pair-up.


	2. Strangely Familiar

It had been a while since Kate had found herself praying to God so fervently for something as she did at her table in the Merch: _please, God, let us get __something__ out of this op, so I won't have withstood it all for nothing!_

Not that Kate had had any moral oppositions to going undercover in a lesbian bar; it was simply a matter of missed expectations. She had (somewhat naively) thought women would, on the whole, be —well—better behaved, classier, than men in general. Kate's boyfriends had only ever been complete gentlemen, but several guys she'd been on dates with had left much to be desired—be they, in Gibbs' words, pigs or dirtbags. She had assumed women would be gentler, sweeter, more subtle. Less eager to get instantly in her pants.

She had not expected Donna and Liz to play footsie, for Jocy to keep putting hand on her knee, or for Katie to spend ten straight minutes discussing her car. Sally kept pushing to see her tattoo. And all Miranda (or was it Marianne?) wanted to do was drool at her while Kate tried to fish around for something to say. She didn't know why she couldn't just get her head in the game and act like this pseudo-speed-dating was normal for her, pretend she really wanted to be at this club. The forwardness of these women was throwing her off, making her question herself, and that made her vastly uncomfortable.

What really wasn't helping was the fact that so many of her co-workers were there to witness it all. After each woman eventually left Kate's table, Abby would swing by and pick up their abandoned glass or bottle, and Kate avoided eye contact. She was thankful for the low lighting in the place, which did an excellent job of hiding her blush.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do about Tony, who kept up a running commentary between breaks, buzzing in her ear like the world's sleaziest fly.

_"Kate, lean forward a bit, I think she's hiding something in that blouse—"_

_ "Good call turning that one down, Kate; he was being more flirty with Abby than she was with you. The nerve."_

_ "Whoa! Yeah, dodged a bullet there. Any woman who orders a drink called 'The Flaming Pussy' is probably too much for you to handle, Sister Todd."_

_ "Nose ring. Very hot!"_

His raucous laughter nearly broke her earpiece when a woman got up to leave, but not before drunkenly sticking a napkin with her number on it down Kate's shirt. "Ohhh! You would shoot a round through a guy's _head _if he ever tried that with you!"

"Talking from experience, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked quietly.

"What? No, boss. That's disgusting. I can't believe you would even insinuate such a thing."

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this," Kate groaned into her hands.

"Aw, don't feel bad about your dowdy outfit," Tony said. "Think of Audrey Hepburn in _The Children's Hour_. Total frumpy dresser, and Shirley MacLaine fell for her anyway!"

"Don't listen to DiNozzo, you're doing fine," Gibbs said in his typically dispassionate voice.

"I'm a spaz and I'm acting all…prudish!" Kate muttered. "It's weird."

Gibbs automatically responded, "It's cute." At the (equally) flat, dispassionate compliment, Kate furrowed her brow and Tony frowned at his boss. Gibbs cleared his throat and clarified heavily, "It's… endearing. You profiled the woman we're looking for, Kate. You know she wants to be the guy. In charge, confident. Let her."

Before Kate could reply with something about gender stereotyping, Abby came by to pik up the last woman's drink. "Geez, Kate, you're going through 'em like a sailor on leave!"

"Not you too, Abs!" Kate moaned, ignoring the impish look on her friend's face. "I'm about ready to call it."

"Not your call to make," Gibbs reminded her.

"I wouldn't go yet, anyway," Abby advised, straightening up and winking. "3:00, Kate. _Total _stud. She's been checking you out practically since she got here."

Raising her eyebrows, Kate looked around as Abby walked off, and she instantly saw who Abby had been talking about.

She was tall, and Kate could tell it wasn't just from the black heeled boots she was wearing. Dark, loose curls tumbled over her shoulders, both held up straight even as she leaned against the bar. One hand was stuck securely in the pocket of her collar-less leather jacket, the other resting at the bar, her fingers tapping a spot where a beer might just have been. And those eyes, dark and utterly serious, were most definitely fixed directly on Agent Todd. Kate dimly wondered if there was any way Gibbs or Tony might have noticed her breathing had stopped.

"Hot. _Damn!_" Tony whispered. "That woman's got a lady boner for you bigger than th—_ow!" _A head slap cut him off prematurely, but he didn't entirely drop it: "She's gonna go to you, Kate. Sit tight. Commence swagger in three… two… one…"

Tony's timing was ever-so-slightly off, but when the womanfinally decided to head over to Kate's table, "swagger" _did _seem to be the only appropriate verb to use. Her fingers trailed along the top of the chair opposite Kate, and she asked, "This seat taken?"

Kate's breath caught again at the huskiness of this woman's voice (which Tony would later qualify as "the secret lovechild of Lauren Bacall and Kathleen Turner's dulcet tones). "Please," she said, gesturing to the chair.

The woman smiled and set herself down. "Cool. I was almost afraid to join in here, you know."

"Sorry?"

"This table's been like a game of musical chairs, I couldn't help noticing."

"Oh, uh…"

"Hey, don't sweat it. I like a woman who doesn't waste time with things she knows she doesn't want. But you can't blame these ladies for trying, right?"

"I can't?" _Dear Lord…why is she turning me into a moron?_

The woman chuckled lightly. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Caitlin."

She smiled. "Wow, that's… sorry, I don't mean for this to sound like a line, but that's a _really _beautiful name."

And there was something about her tone that made Kate feel like it was genuinely intended to be a compliment, a sincere one. Not a line. "I usually do go by Kate, though."

"Hey, that works, too. Short and sweet, like mine. I'm Jane."

"Jane, nice to meet you." Seeing Abby approach their table, Kate asked, "Care for a drink?"

"Thanks, I've had enough to get brave," Jane said, waving Abby on. "The next stage is generally weeping, which wouldn't be pretty, trust me." She blinked and her smile softened a bit as Kate laughed a little awkwardly (DiNozzo had just told her she needed to find another way to get some of Jane's DNA). She leaned forward and pointed at Kate. "Are we—have we met before, though?"

"Oh, come on!" Kate laughed. "Are you sure _that _wasn't a line?"

"No, I'm serious!" Jane chuckled, falling back in her chair again. "You, um, you look a lot like someone I know. I was just wondering if maybe you were like, a distant relative of hers or something, somebody I might've met through her at some point."

"I haven't got any family in the area. I'm glad you put it that way, though. I've already been told twice that I look like that girl who was killed around here the other day."

Jane's face fell, and her eyes dropped to the table. "Guess her picture's all over the news, huh? Still," she said, lifting her gaze again and trying to crack a grin at Kate. "What a great way to get into your good graces, I bet! 'Hey, you look like that murdered marine! Wanna get down on my starboard side?'"

"Oh, God, I've been spared that so far," Kate said, laughing again.

"Really, no sailor-themed pick-up lines yet? Fleet week's killin' it all over town," Jane said. "Just the other day I had a guy proposition my friend by saying 'you can petty my officer any day.'"

Gibbs' voiced buzzed in Kate's ear: "_No, DiNozzo_."

"You got any good ones yourself?" Kate asked.

"Nah," Jane chuckled. "I don't know the navy well enough to come up with anything really clever. Or stupid, even. The only title I've ever had was 'wellness captain' one week at work, when we were doing this ridiculous health and wellness regimen thing for the department."

"Sounds impressive!" Kate snickered.

"Oh, shut up."

"Did anyone actually mind you?"

"Of course they did! I'd kick their sorry butts if they hadn't." That got Kate laughing again, and Jane felt buzzed by the emboldening sound. _God, she's gorgeous._ "Hey, if I can't interest _you_ in a drink, would you like to dance?"

She bit her lip. "Dance? Really?"

Putting on an official-sounding tone, Jane sat straight with her elbow on the table and quipped, "As your wellness captain, I insist."

Kate pressed her lips tightly together, evaluating Jane. This was the most comfortable she'd felt all night, and the most intrigued, as well. She half-forgot she was here undercover, and probably would have forgotten entirely if it hadn't been for Gibbs and DiNozzo in her ear.

"Far be it for me to disobey a direct order," she said, keeping her tone low. "Would you mind if I went to go freshen up first?"

Jane might've feared that was an excuse to run off if it wasn't for the way Kate's hand was grazing her knee under the table. And she'd seen that expression before, with the lip-biting and raised eyebrows of someone in anxious excitement.

"Go ahead," Jane murmured. "I'll be here."

It was a quick walk to the club's grimy bathroom, and Kate was grateful to see that for the moment, it was un-occupied. She pulled the tiny camera off of her headband and held it up so that it faced her. "Gibbs. I can't do this with DiNozzo in my ear."

"Hey!" Tony protested. "I'm just doing my job!"

"You've been a total perv all night, Tony!"

"_I'm _the perv?! I'm not the one who's been trying to feel you up!"

"Kate's got a job to do, too, DiNozzo. If she feels more comfortable taking this one alone, we'll have to trust her on it."

"But boss, her back-up!"

"Abby'll still be in the loop with us. She can keep us informed if anything seems…"

"Hinky?" Abby suggested, her voice crackling through.

"Exactly. Well? Kate? What're you waiting for? Get back out there. Do what you have to."

Kate didn't wait for him to change his mind, and she delicately un-looped the camera and placed it in her skirt pocket. The microphone followed, and she did a quick touch-up in front of the mirror before heading back out into the club. Jane was resting against the wall nearby, and smiled when Kate walked over to her. Jane reached for her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. The song had a fast beat and lyrics that were only barely discernible; Kate was only able to pull out the occasional "pussy," "tits," and a chorus that mostly seemed to consist of the word "ass."

They danced their way through a few songs, getting progressively closer with each one. Jane had started at a respectful distance, though close enough that onlookers would be able to tell the two of them were together. She kept expecting Kate to leave, or want to sit down, or at least dance with somebody else. But contrarily, Kate was the one who kept dancing closer, who kept looking at her like she was the only other woman in the room. Maybe it was inevitable that they would end up so close, Kate's arms lifted around Jane's neck and Jane grinding into her from behind.

Kate jumped when she felt something vibrate against her.

"Oh God, it's just my phone, I swear!" Jane hurriedly said, whipping the offending article out of her pocket. She _would _have to be on call tonight. "Aw, crap," she muttered. "Kate, I've gotta go."

"Is everything all right?" Kate asked breathlessly.

Jane waved her phone and stuck it back in her pocket. "If it's not, it will be," she said grimly.

"Well—wait," Kate said, hurrying after Jane as she parted her way through the crowd of dancing bodies. "Jane, hold on!"

"I'll look you up," Jane said once she'd reached the door, turning to face Kate. "Caitlin…"

"Todd."

"Kate Todd," Jane murmured, sticking her index finger under Kate's chin and tilting it upwards. "I'll look you up."

With that, she smoothly slid one hand into Kate's hair and placed the other one at her hip, pulling the woman close and leaving a long kiss at her neck. And she felt it, she actually felt Kate's knees buckle, her stance loosen up as her own arms weakly went around Jane's body to pull her closer. Jane had meant to keep it brief, but this response made that difficult, and she took a couple steps to push Kate fully against the wall, licking this spot on her neck.

"Oh—G…" Kate wasn't even aware the sounds had escaped her at all as Jane left another wet kiss on her neck before pulling away.

"I won't forget, I promise," she husked. And on that note, she promptly left.

It took a few moments for Kate to realize how fast her heartbeat had been going and that her mouth had been hanging open slightly. When she was finally able to remember she had a job to be doing, she made her way slowly back to the bar, where Abby was standing and grinning cheekily at her.

"Well _that _was hot," she observed.

"Can we go to the van?" Kate asked, leaning in to speak directly in Abby's ear. "I need you to swab my neck."


	3. No Harm

**A/N**: Still kinda flying by the seat of my pants here. Don't overthink it. Just enjoy the mental images of all the pretty people.

* * *

"Hey, Maura! Big break in the Barnes case."

Maura glanced up from her computer to see Jane swaggering into her office, looking vastly pleased with herself. Such was Jane's delight that she didn't even notice Maura's eyes dip appreciatively down to her chest. _I knew getting a properly-fitting bra would do wonders. Especially in that black button-up; oh… _"A break?"

"Yeah, literally—NCIS is gonna tackle this one."

Maura's brow furrowed. "You've ceded control over to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service?" she asked, sounding thoroughly surprised.

"You knew what that stood for? Wait, of course you did," Jane chuckled. She perched herself on the edge of Maura's desk. "So anyway, Cavanaugh needs you to send copies of your reports to…" She checked the contact list the lieutenant had given her. "A Dr. Mallard." Jane had to laugh when Maura didn't take the sheet right away, her brow furrowed in suspicion. "Now Maura, you know it's against regulation not to play nice with the feds. Don't get all possessive of your reports."

"That isn't it," Maura said flatly, swiping the sheet out of Jane's hand. "_You're _the one I would've expected to be possessive. It doesn't seem like you to so happily hand over a case to another department."

Jane shrugged. "Eh, no big. Apparently their team leader spoke to Cavanaugh, and originally they planned it as a joint investigation—but since that body turned up in Charles River last night, Cavanaugh figured our team ought to maybe focus on that."

"Incidentally…where _were_ you last night?" Maura asked slowly. "Before you reached the crime scene, I mean."

"Oh, just out," Jane said lightly.

"Hot date?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah," Jane snickered. "Anyway, you free for lunch?"

"Certainly," Maura replied. "Let me just fax over my findings to Dr. Mallard, and we can go."

"Great!" Jane chirped. When Maura tried reaching around her for the necessary file, Jane smirked and folded her arms, swaying deliberately in Maura's way. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you need something here on your desk?"

Finally making a noise that indicated both exasperation and amusement, Maura walked around the desk to pick up the file. When Jane stood up, Maura playfully said "Idiot," and smacked her butt with the folder. "I'll be back in a minute. Try not to break anything or harass my interns if they come in while I'm gone."

"You mean while I'm filing an official complaint about the sexual harassment that went down just now?" Jane teased her. "And don't go blaming the way my ass looks in these slacks—or are you gonna tell me it was the folder's idea?"

Maura stopped and turned at the door. "Inanimate objects aren't capable of sentient thoughts, Jane," she said, sounding confused. Then she turned on her three-inch heel and walked away.

Once the door had closed softly, Jane threw herself into Maura's chair and opened a new tab in her Internet browser. Here in the privacy of Maura's office, she could do what she'd wanted all morning without fear of Frost or Korsak or—God forbid—Crowe looking over her shoulder. She logged on to the dating website she had checked out for a case long ago, using an account Frost and Maura had set up for her. Neither was aware that she actually used it, but for a few weeks now, she'd been getting several dates at the Merch through it. Last night's had been a total dud, but Jane was willing to admit that had been her own fault.

It had been hard to keep her focus on anything else once she caught sight of Kate Todd, and Jane's date had noticed the shift in attention. At first, given the crowd and low lighting, Jane's heart had skipped a beat at the thought that Maura had come to the bar. But no… no, it was just a woman who looked scarily similar to her. There had been an initial interest because of that, Jane couldn't lie. But then Kate—despite looking flustered with other women, like she didn't want to be there—had flirted back. Risen to the challenge. Made Jane feel like the sexiest woman on the planet without losing her own intriguing edge.

And oh, the way she'd danced. The way she'd looked at Jane, ready to devour her or be devoured. The way she had received that kiss on her neck. She was just. So. _Hot. _

Eagerly, Jane entered Kate's name in the search bar. Nothing came up, and her anticipatory grin crashed to the floor in disappointment. It occurred to her that she didn't even know if Kate lived in the area; maybe she'd only been visiting. She had already slapped herself on the way to the crime scene for not giving Kate a business card—usually she liked to get that stuff out of the way early: if a woman would wimp out at the thought of being a cop, then off she'd go, no time wasted. On the other hand, some women found it an incredible turn-on. Maybe Kate would've been one of them.

Jane half-heartedly searched _Caitlin Todd_, and this time, she sat up alert in the chair to see an icon that was unmistakably Kate's face. She clicked on the profile to send her a message, but got distracted by the one photo Kate had uploaded in addition to her default: _1994 winner of wet t-shirt contest. _Jane's mouth fell open before she curved it into a crooked smile. It pained her to click away, but if she wanted to get a message off to Kate before Maura got back—

_Hey, Kate! It's Jane, from the other night. Can't believe we use the same site! I'd call it a coincidence, but let's say it's _… what was the word Maura had once used? _"kismet" instead. Hit me up if you'd be free for a drink at Sherwood's Bar tonight_. Glancing up, Jane saw Maura through the window, talking to Susie Chang. She hurriedly added her number to the bottom of the message, then closed the browser and went to erase the site from Maura's history.

"What are you doing?" Maura asked curiously upon her re-entry to the office.

"Filing that sexual harassment claim," Jane replied, getting to her feet. "Café for lunch, or shall we go off the premises?"

* * *

Tony jumped when Kate walked unexpectedly into his hotel room, and he practically threw himself in front of his open laptop. "How'd you get in here, Kate?"

"Using some of the most fascinating technology, Tony. A key."

"I know that. I mean where'd you get the key?"

She raised an eyebrow and tried to peer over his shoulder at the computer. "Gibbs passed me on his way to the vending machine. He said you and Abby were about to have a consult, and when I asked him if I could sit in, he just tossed me the key." When she was about to sit in the chair Gibbs had recently vacated, Tony kicked it away and stood up, blocking the computer from Kate's view. "Um, Tony? What the hell are you doing?"

"Hm? Oh, am I in your way?"

Kate grinned at him. "Well, let's see. That's a fourteen-inch screen, and you've got a twenty-five inch butt! So…"

Tony was torn between wanting to sass Kate for studying his butt and asking if she really thought it was that big. But before he could speak, Abby's voice came from the computer: "Tony, why are you acting so weird? You said she already knew!"

"No I didn't!" Tony hissed.

Giving Tony a shove, Kate asked, "Tell me what?" But now she finally had a good look at the computer screen, and saw exactly what. "This—is that my face and my name on a _gay _dating website?!"

"No," Tony said lightly. "I mean technically, it's a _lesbian _dating site."

Kate gave him another shove and sat down at the computer. She pulled up the window that that had a feed into Abby's lab, where the forensics expert was already back at the grind (thanks to an all-night drive fueled by an endless supply of Kaf-Pow). "_Abby! _How could you let him do this?! Do you really think I'd have given Tony the go-ahead to do something like this?"

"Something like what, give you a profile on a lesbian site? Why's that so wrong, Kate, got something against lezzies?"

"No," Kate said through her teeth. "But—"

"Hey, it was the best shot we had at finding the killer," Tony said. "And it worked! How else d'you think we got all those ladies to your table that night, Kate? They saw your profile. The bar does major business through that site."

"I understand _that_," Kate said glumly, "but what I don't understand is why nobody saw fit to let me on in this detail!"

"Kate, really? C'mon. You would've shot us down."

"That's probably true, now that I think about it," Abby observed.

"Well what did you say about me?" Kate asked concernedly, pulling the profile back up again. "How'd you—TONY!"

"What?!" He was already laughing.

She stood up and turned viciously around, giving Tony a shove. "_You put up that photo from that wet t-shirt contest!_"

"What?! Kate, you know I deleted that picture!"

"You and I both know you did no such thing. You sent it to Gibbs!"

"Yeah, Gibbs! He's the one who said to put it on the site!"

This laughably fabricated explanation earned Tony a slap on the head from his boss, who had just re-entered the room with a bucket of ice. Kate realized she had left the door propped open, and this distracted her from being able to pull down the browser before Gibbs saw the picture. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite quick enough, and looked over to see Gibbs staring down at the photo.

"A bit loud," Gibbs said. "But nice picture. Sure it's gotten you a lot of attention."

"I work with pigs!" Kate balked. "Abby, how could you let Tony put that up?"

"I didn't! He must have gone back after we'd already set up the profile."

Kate veered angrily towards Gibbs again, furious that he could be acting so calm when Tony had invaded her privacy like this. "Pigs!" she cried again. "Gibbs, how could you let Tony just get away with something like this? You two have absolutely _no _respect for women!"

"Kate, I was under the impression that you disliked preferential treatment based solely on your sex," Gibbs said, tipping some ice into a plastic cup. "Or are you all right with double standards when they're in your favor?"

"Double—what? Gibbs, what does that have to do w—"

"If we were trying to find a gay man and Abby helped you set up a profile for Tony, how d'you think I would react if you had put up that photo-shopped picture you sent me? You know, of the stud in the leather chaps?"

Looking dumbfounded, Kate said, "I… guess you…"

"I would laugh and tell him to get over it. So. Kate." He went to slap her head and she instinctively flinched. He pulled away. He never could slap Kate. "Laugh and get over it. Delete the picture if you want to."

"She can delete the whole profile if she wants," Abby said. "Or at least she can after these DNA results come through. It's gonna take a while, though."

"Look, _look!_" Tony suddenly gasped, pointing at the screen. "Kate, you've got a new message! Maybe it's from one of the suspects!"

Kate sat down at the computer, but was uncomfortably aware of the fact that Tony and Gibbs were both staring over her shoulder. "Can I have a second alone here?" she asked.

"Ooh, Kate! I knew it! You were into one of those babes!"

"Tony."

"Was it the last one? The stud?"

"Tony!"

"Because she was _smokin'!_"

Gibbs straightened up. "DiNozzo. Why don't you go help McGee bring over the lunch orders?"

"He can handle them himself, that place was just down the street." Tony frowned when the only response he received was Gibbs' infamous stare of non-negotiation. "On it, boss," he sighed, walking out of the room.

Gibbs obligingly excused himself to his own room as Kate opened the message. She felt her heart jump uncomfortably when she saw it was from Jane, and without a second's thought, she took down the number, muttering, "oh, Lord…"

"What?"

Kate jumped. With Tony and Gibbs out of the room, she'd forgotten that she wasn't technically alone: the video feed with Abby was hiding behind the Internet window. Kate brought Abby back to view and bit her lip. "Uh, Abby? Can I ask you something?"

"Duh, Kate. What's up?"

"Have you ever, um… you know, uh… withagirlbefore?"

"What was that?" Abby laughed.

Kate sighed heavily. "Have you ever been with a girl before?"

"Well, I guess that depends on how define 'been with.' Do you mean have I slept with one, have I dated one, have I kissed one? Cohabitated and owned a pet tortoise with one?"

"Okay, well, any of the above?" Kate asked, sounding harried.

"Pretty sure I like dudes," Abby said, smiling and shrugging. "I mean, I kissed a girl on a dare when I was a kid, and then I kissed one when I was getting my Masters. You know, just to make sure I wasn't like missing out on anything." She shrugged again. "Tried it, wasn't really my thing. No harm no foul." A mischievous grin unfurled on her face as Kate started to blush. "Whyyyy?"

"I, um…I got asked out on a follow-up date by someone I met last night."

"And you wanna go? Kate, that's _awesome!_" Then Abby's smile faded, almost comically fast. "Wait, unless her DNA matches the one we found at the crime scene on the docks. That would be awful! Unless Gibbs wanted you to like, go undercover even more and date her to get close to her so you could find out what was really going on—but then what if you were really in love, and you had to lie to—"

"Whoa, Abs, come back. I didn't say yes or anything. I'm just considering it."

"But you _are _considering it. Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised—that kiss you got at the end of the night would've been enough to turn _any_one."

"Right out of one of Tony's fantasies," Kate groaned.

"Maybe, but the important thing is whether it fulfilled one of _your _fantasies, too, Kate."

Kate gulped and leaned back in the chair. Even before her appearance at the Merch last night, women had tried their hand at light flirtation with her. It was probably something about her business attire, she'd decided. But she had never given any of them the time of day, because she'd genuinely never felt any interest. Maybe this was a timing issue—Jane made Kate feel something she hadn't in quite some time: desired. And perhaps desire itself, too. Point being, she'd liked how Jane had made her feel last night. And she wanted to feel it again.

"I want access to this profile, and away from DiNozzo," she said. "What's the password?"

"It's 'good catholic girl 94,' all lower-case and no spaces."

"Of course it is," Kate snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'm gonna change it, and then—"

"—you want me to set up a profile for Tony on a gay dating website using our favorite photo-shopped Photo?"

"You read my mind," Kate chuckled. There was a knock at the door, and she stood to answer it. Seeing Gibbs through the peep hole, Kate opened the door. "Gosh, Gibbs, I'm flattered. Miss me already?"

"Missed my ice," Gibbs replied, walking over to the desk to get it. His eyes involuntarily glanced over at the laptop, and he noticed a familiar face in the window tucked behind Abby. "That the woman who sent you a message?"

Rushing over to minimize the browser, Kate said, "Didn't you recognize her? She was my last date yesterday."

"There was really low lighting in that place. I didn't get a good look."

"Do…you know who she is…?"

"Sure. Jane Rizzoli, BPD."

"Rizzoli? She's Italian?" Abby crowed. "Tony's gonna flip out! Italian Stallion, real chick magnet."

"Gibbs, how d'you know who she is?" Kate asked.

"I met her in passing this morning after I had a meeting with her boss."


	4. No Foul

**A/N: **The implausible ridiculousness continues.

* * *

Typically Gibbs had the ability to read emotions on people as easily as if they were books. Not even books; tabloids. That's how easy it was. It was just a gift you picked up after so many years of interrogating people. He'd never admit it, but he sort of prided himself particularly on his ability to know what his agents were thinking, often before even they did themselves.

That's why it troubled him so to see Kate looking at him so blankly. So unreadable. Just to be safe, he repeated what he'd just told her.

"Jane Rizzoli. Boston Homicide."

Kate opened her mouth, then clamped it shut again. When she _did _speak, hr voice was low and trembling. Uncharacteristically so. "What do you want me to do?" At the question, Gibbs raised his eyebrows, which only seemed to aggravate her more. "What should I do?"

"About what?"

"Jane Rizzoli! She just asked me on a date!"

Gibbs' voice was lightly curious, but betrayed no other emotion. "Do you want to go?"

Wait, this face he could read: flabbergasted. "_What?_"

He couldn't help smiling a little at her expression—which was, frankly, adorable. A word he had not ever associated with Caitlin Todd. He repeated the question.

Still flabbergasted. A little panicked. Wary of saying the wrong thing.

"She's—well, th-this could be awkward, Gibbs. I mean, we're taking over her case. She's BPD. We're—you know! And…" Gibbs was giving her hat look, the one usually directed at Abby or McGee when they went rambling on too long with their technical jargon. Her voice was weaker, even as she tried to make a definitive stance, like her last point was the strongest. "Besides, Gibbs …she's a… a woman."

Quietly, one more time, somewhere between impatient and exasperated. "_Kate. _Do. You. Want. To. Go?"

She squirmed uncomfortably under Gibbs' direct gaze. He didn't usually make her feel this nervous. "It's always nice to feel wanted, isn't it?" she finally asked, somewhat evasively, trying to sound casual.

Gibbs smiled encouragingly, and it was disarming. "Yeah?"

She braved a cautious smile. "Yeah."

Gibbs' smile disappeared instantaneously. "No."

Kate's jaw dropped. "Gibbs!"

"Has Abby gotten the results of the DNA yet?" From the computer, Abby was sorry to answer negatively. "Well, wait to hear back. You can't date a suspect, Agent Todd; I don't care how much of a _stud _Abby thinks she is."

"And if it turns out we have no reason to suspect her?" Kate asked.

Gibbs shrugged. "Your choice, Kate." And he headed out the door.

Once he was gone, Kate turned back to the computer. "Abby, Gibbs is right. She could be a suspect. And besides, like I said, it's…" Unconsciously she pulled her crucifix necklace out ron under her shirt and started playing with it. Nervous habit. "She's a woman!"

"Yeah, a hot one who's totally into you! And it kinda seemed like you were into her, too."

"I am—I was—but what if it was a fluke?" Kate asked anxiously. "I mean, I was _in _a lesbian bar! There was mood music and low lighting and alcohol—"

"Um, which you didn't drink…"

"—yeah, but the mood was set! The dating mood! So don't you think that could be part of this?"

Abby shrugged and frowned thoughtfully. "Well… yeah. I mean I guess that that's happened to me. You go to a bar, meet a cute guy, fool around a little. But then you wake up the next morning in his Batmobile-shaped bed, and you're like 'whoa, cool bed! Whoa, tool of a guy!' Or you didn't go home with him for whatever reason, but you liked him. But then he texts you the next day you're just like 'ew.' You know?"

"Right, so…"

Abby held up her arms in a gesture that clearly relayed _how do you not get this?_ "So? When you saw that Jane Rizzoli had gone to the trouble of finding your profile and hitting you up for a date, were you like 'ew,' or… 'ooh'?"

Kate had to laugh at the little shoulder shimmy Abby had done on that last word. "Well…"

She looked up when she heard a scuffle at the door. Her first instinct was to reach for her gun, but she huffed in annoyance when it turned out just to be Tony and McGee. Sounding as if he had run a mile, Tony asked, "So? Kate, you a lesbian yet?"

"Dammit, DiNozzo, keep me _out _of your sleazeball fantasies!"

Tony batted his eyelashes with faux innocence. "Why do you think being a lesbian is sleazy, Agent Todd?"

"_I _don't. _You _do. Someday maybe you'll realize that the lives of same-sex couples revolve around sex just as much or as little as heterosexual couples do—and while I realize that yeah, Tony, sex is the only thing that matters to _you_, it is incredibly demeaning and inappropriate for you to keep cracking jokes about this at my expense. And I'm not going to tolerate it anymore."

Giving him a shove to get out of her way, Kate stomped out of the room. Tony whistled. "Is it just me, Probie, or is Kate acting a little sensitive about this?"

"Sitting down and eating my sandwich now," McGee said. "Oh, Kate forgot to get—" He looked up when Kate banged the door back open, stalked over, and snatched the sandwich out of his hand. "Uh, Kate?" he said feebly as she was already walking back to the door. "That was actually mine."

"Tell it to someone who cares, McGee!"

"Don't take it personally, Timmy," Abby said once Kate had slammed the door behind her. "She's um, got a bit going on."

"Apparently," McGee sighed, opening the box that held the Caesar salad Kate had ordered.

"Any hits from the DNA yet?" Tony asked.

"Nada."

"Well darn it! Kate may have to just keep going back to that lesbian bar until we find a match!"

"We knew it was a long shot going in, Tony," Abby said with a smile.

"Yeah, but does that mean we should give up? I don't think so. Justice waits for no man, Abby. Or lesbian."

Gibbs came barging through the door next, and Tony tossed him a sandwich. "DiNozzo, you and I are going to BPD to get a copy of the file they started on this case."

"Is Kate comin'?"

"That depends," Gibbs said, looking down at the computer. "Abs, have you gotten anything back about Detective Rizzoli's DNA?"

"Not yet," Abby said.

"Wait," Tony gasped, looking at the tab which still had Jane's profile open. "Is she—_she's a cop?_"

"Oh yeah, you weren't here for that conversation," Abby chuckled.

Tony straightened immediately. "Boss. I'd like to volunteer Kate to continue her undercover operation, possibly pursue a date or two with Detective Rizzoli. She seemed might suspicious to me the other night. All… you know, shifty and everything. She could be dirty. If she's kept in the dark about Kate being a cop, we could maybe get some useful information. Or—or, she could be really upset that we're swooping in and taking this investigation away from her. What if she tries to hide something, just to press her advantage on this case? Maybe she'd divulge to a girl she was trying to impress."

Gibbs stared at him. "You finished, DiNozzo?"

"You…don't think it's a good plan."

The response came from Abby: "Definitely not. Detective Rizzoli's DNA isn't a match."

McGee, who had been quietly at his computer in the corner resuming the work he'd started that morning, hesitantly said, "Uh, boss? You might want to see this." Gibbs and Tony crossed the room to look at McGee's screen (and Abby craned her neck in attempt to see, before remembering she couldn't get a glimpse unless someone carried the laptop over). "See this guy?" McGee said. "Patrick Doyle. Apparently a pretty tough Irish mob boss, famous in Boston."

"Pretty tough?" Gibbs asked, his raised eyebrows an unspoken request for more information.

"He's wanted for several brutal murders," McGee said.

"Aw, you mean he isn't one of those gentle mob boss murderers?" Tony asked.

Gibbs slapped them both upside the head. "Point, McGee?"

"Detective Rizzoli put him in jail a few months ago, but he broke out. Apparently one of his first orders of business was to regain control over the docks where Petty Officer Barnes' body was found."

"What's this guy's M.O.?" Gibbs asked.

"Ice pick."

"We never found the murder weapon used on Barnes."

"Doesn't look like he's ever killed women before," McGee said. "Maybe he didn't want to broadcast it by using his M.O."

"Well if he's never killed women before and his signature wasn't there, maybe he wasn't involved," Tony said, using a tone that might have indicated he was talking to a five-year-old.

"Maybe he's never killed a woman because he never had to before," Gibbs. "Don't rush with absolutes, right Abs?"

"Right!" she chirped from the other side of the room.

"One more thing," McGee said, opening another tab. "There was a big blow-out when Rizzoli put Doyle in prison, because it um… it turned out Doyle was the biological father of her best friend, Dr. Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner."

Tony and Gibbs both leaned closer, and Tony's eyes went wide. "Um, Probie? Did you really just take the time to Photoshop a picture of Kate with blonder hair? For why?"

"That's not Kate, it's Maura Isles," McGee insisted. "I know they look kinda similar—"

"Kind of similar?" Gibbs scoffed. "They're twins."

A new voice startled the special agent, emanating from a blocked window on McGee's computer. "Oh, I assure you, Jethro, Agent Todd and Dr. Isles are not in any way related."

"Ducky?"

"Timothy got in touch to see if I had received Dr. Isles' autopsy report yet," Ducky explained. "I went to pick it up as you and Tony were, I take it, discussing other items of business with Abigail."

"Did you see a picture of this Dr. Isles?" Tony asked. "It's kinda freakin' me out. Like Kate's doppelganger or something.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Tony," Ducky said with a chuckle. "Doppelgangers refer to spirits of people, typically those who have passed on. No; what we seem to have here is a case of a lookalike, an interesting but not altogether uncommon phenomenon. Did you know that Charlie Chaplin once lost a Charlie Chaplin lookalike contest in 1922? He didn't even make it to the finals!"

"Or wait," Tony said. "Like _Dave_? Kevin Kline, Sigourney Weaver? President's assassinated, so they hire a lookalike to step in."

"Or _Star Wars: Phantom Menace_?" McGee offered.

"Excuse you, McGeek. As far as I'm concerned, that movie was never made."

"I'm just saying—they didn't just use Natalie Portman twice in that. She played Queen Amidala, and when the character was supposed to be the double, she was played by Keira Knightley."

"What?! No way. How'd you know that? Did you actually sit through that movie with a director's commentary or something?"

Gibbs slapped the back of Tony's head. "Or he read the credits, DiNozzo, stay on point here. Both of you!"

"Right—boss, I was just thinking here," McGee said. "It looks as if Rizzoli was investigated after Doyle wound up in prison. She may've known Dr. Isles was Doyle's daughter, and kept quiet in the past when she knew he was in town."

"A-ha!" Tony cried. "So she might still know something!"

"Who might still know something?"

The three men turned around to see Kate had joined them again. "Your ears burning, Kate?" Gibbs asked. He nodded at the screen. "You may be going on a date tonight after all."

"With Detective Rizzoli?" Kate asked, trying to keep the hopefulness out of her voice.

"Do you think she likes being called Detective in bed?" Tony asked McGee. "Do you think she uses handcuffs? OW!" he yelled, when Kate kicked his foot. "What?! That wasn't speculation about _you_, Puritan Polly, it was about Rizzoli."

"It's still fetishizing someone based on their sexuality," Kate pointed out.

"No, her job."

"Which isn't that dissimilar from _your _job, Tony. How would you like it if people jumped to conclusions like that about _you _based only your line of—you know what, never mind. I think I know how you'd feel about that." She sighed and turned her back on Tony, facing Gibbs. "What's this about a date?"

"Read that," Gibbs said, pointing to the online article McGee had pulled up. "Just the headline."

"Wait," Kate sighed. "Are you serious? What, you want me to go out with her in the hopes that, on a first date, she'll tell me she's on the payroll of one of Boston's most notorious killers?"

"Not on the first date, no," Gibbs said casually. "So make it a good one. But you're a trained investigator, Kate. Trained profiler. I don't care if Rizzoli's been cleared by her own people, I want her checked out by mine."

"Oh I think she's already been checked out by one of your people," Tony said.

Kate elbowed him in the gut.

Gibbs continued: "You'll find a way to bring up Doyle. Maybe through his daughter. Get a read on Rizzoli's reaction. In the meantime, DiNozzo and McGee will be helping me scare up some other leads." He nodded at Tony. "You two. Get your gear and bring the car up." They left at once, and Gibbs closed the laptop before crossing the room, saying goodbye to Abby, and closing that one as well. "Kate. Call Rizzoli and take her up on that date. It'll make our jobs easier if she's in a good mood when we get to BPD. Afterwards, I want a full report on Patrick Doyle—anything you can find besides his dock that could make him a suspect in this case."

"On it," Kate sighed, picking up the slip of paper where she'd jotted down Jane's number.

With his hand on the doorknob, Gibbs said, "And Kate."

"Gibbs?"

"No need to mention you're NCIS."

She grinned at him. "Never would've guessed you wanted me to keep it under wraps." He smiled and rolled his eyes before finally walking out the door. Kate's smile fell a little with nerves as she got out her phone and dialed Jane's number. _Because it's my job. This is what I have to do_.

* * *

"Hey, Maura, got a second?"

Maura checked her watch. "I have approximately three hundred and sixty seconds, actually. Before my meeting with Lieutenant Cavanaugh, that is. How can I help you, Jane? Is it about the kooks?"

Jane glanced around to make sure nobody else was there before quietly shutting Maura's door. "They're called spooks, Maura, and it only applies to CIA agents, not all feds," she chuckled. "Anyway, it's not about that. You um, you've been taken on—uh …I need a recommendation for a restaurant."

"What kind?"

"A nice one. I mean, not like _too _nice, but one that doesn't use paper napkins, y'know?"

"Expanding your culinary catalogue?" Maura asked excitedly. "What's the occasion?"

"Um… I've got a date. And I wanna go someplace … some place nicer than I usually go, I guess."

"You're choosing the venue?" Maura sounded surprised. "Well, that's refreshingly against stereotype; generally men are the ones who do the asking and therefore the choosing when it comes to deciding where a first date should be. And I'm going to hypothesize that this _is _a first date, as you haven't mentioned seeing anybody lately." She raised her eyebrows when Jane averted her gaze, kneading her hands. "Is he someone I know?"

Jane breathed out quickly. "Uh, no."

"How did you meet?"

"At a bar. Last night."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing," Maura said lightly.

"Maura…" Jane leaned over Maura's desk, aggressively putting her hands down on either side of the folder Maura was pretending to be extremely interested in. "You 'oh'-ed. Tell me why you 'oh'-ed."

With a sigh, Maura leaned back in her chair. "I noticed you seemed unusually, well, _chipper_ this morning. And not even putting up a fight when NCIS asked to take over the investigation of Petty Officer Barnes? I was wondering if something had happened last night to put you in a complying mood."

"Hey, if that's some crack about how I'm usually not compliant—well, okay."

Maura waited for more, such as who this mystery date might be, but Jane said nothing else. "Well," she said slowly. "You could try Le B—"

"No. Nothing French."

Rolling her eyes, Maura muttered something that sounded like _you are so prejudiced_. "Jane, why don't you just do an Internet search? Our tastes are so dissimilar, you're bound to find something just as easily yourself, and something with your ideal price range and napkin material."

"Yeah, but anyone could just google. I wanna tell her that I…" She felt her face drain color when Maura's eyes shot back up to her, wide and shocked. "Um, I wanted to—uh, we… I…"

"Jane?" Maura said, her voice a little strangled. "Did you ask a woman out on a date?"

_Quick. Tell her you misspoke. Tell her you met a nice guy somewhere. Tell her it was a joke! Ha, ha! _But Jane remained silent as her face, unbidden, started to get red. If she'd really wanted to keep a lid on this, she would have been able to. These weren't feelings she could keep pinned down anymore; she'd crossed that line by going to the Merch. Those one-night stands hadn't been flukes physically, they just hadn't led to Jane finding someone she wanted to really try asking out yet. Kate was that first person, and it felt like an exciting step. If things went wrong—hell, if they went _good—_it would be great to have someone she could talk to about it. Someone who definitely wasn't her mother.

"Promise not to say a word to Ma?" Jane asked quietly. "Or Frankie, or the guys, or… anyone else?"

"Of course," Maura replied, her voice soft, even as her heart was racing. "I would never betray your trust, Jane."

"I, um…" She didn't need all the details, maybe not yet. One step at a time, Rizzoli. "I met this woman last night, and uh, we really kinda hit it off. And so I figured, I dunno, what the hell, give it a shot. And she said yes. So here we are." She shrugged. "Might be something, might be nothing. I just figured maybe I'd give it a shot."

Maura smiled. "Well! Jane, I have to say, I certainly applaud your continental approach to this. It's very admirable."

"Not yet," Jane snorted. "Not till I feel like I can tell my parents about it. Or Ma, anyway. Not like Pop checks in anymore."

Nodding to herself, Maura got to her feet. "Yes—well, um. All right. I need to go."

"What? I used up my three hundred sixty seconds already?"

"I need approximately a hundred and twenty of them to get to Cavanaugh's office, so yes," Maura responded, already at the door. "Open my top drawer, Jane, and you'll find a local Zagat guide. I've dog-eared the pages with my favorite restaurants, and there are notes in the margins detailing what I liked about each place."

"Sweet!" Jane laughed, jumping around to the other side of the desk. "You're the best, Maura! Seriously though, thanks."

Maura nodded, understanding it was a thank you for her discretion as well as for help with the restaurants. "Of course, Jane. What are friends for?" She twisted the knob, but before opening the door asked, "Would you tell me her name?"

Jane looked up from the Zagat guide, a crooked grin on her face. "Kate. Kate Todd."

* * *

**A/N**: Awkward date and decontamination scene (unrelated) are upcoming.


	5. Out

**A/N**: So I'm surprised there are people reading this who don't watch NCIS- thanks, I guess! I have to say that I do really love everyone in the cast, yes, even Tony. I'm having fun trying them on, so thanks :) I thought I'd get a little farther in this chapter than I actually I did; I guess I got caught up with stuff! There shouldn't be as long of a wait for the next update, though, because I have an idea of how things are going to progress after this.

* * *

Cavanaugh had nearly finished his meeting with Maura when a knock sounded at his door. Upon hearing a gruff invitation to come in, Frankie hesitantly stuck his head inside. "Uh, sir? Sorry to interrupt, but those guys from NCIS are here. They're waiting for you in the café, unless you'd like me to send them here directly?"

"Café's fine. Tell 'em I'll be down in a minute, and go give your sister a heads-up."

"Yes, sir."

A minute or so later, Cavanaugh had made his way down to the café, inviting Maura to come along. He could not help feeling a tad envious at the way Angela was clearly flirting with another grey-haired, blue-eyed team leader, and his only consolation was that Gibbs didn't seem to be in a mood to reciprocate. Clearing his throat loudly, Cavanaugh stepped across the café, hand extended to shake Gibbs' before turning to Maura.

"Dr. Isles, this is Special Agent Gibbs. Gibbs, our Chief Medical Examiner, Maura Isles."

"Dr. Isles," Gibbs said, shaking her hand. Nodding at the two men behind him, he said, "These are Agents DiNozzo and McGee."

While Gibbs looked fairly impassive, Maura couldn't help thinking she had seen a glimmer of recognition pass through the eyes of his agents. DiNozzo smiled cheekily, but McGee still looked as though he were struggling to appear nonchalant. They had seemed find until she walked into view …odd.

"What's up, doc?" DiNozzo asked, reaching for her hand. "Anthony DiNozzo, at your serv—"

"You've already been introduced," Gibbs said heavily.

"DiNozzo," Maura said with a smile. "Italian?" He winked at her, and her smile deepened. "I like Italians." She blinked and after a moment, gestured vaguely in Angela's direction. "I'm lucky enough to work with quite a few."

"Three nutballs all from the same family," Cavanaugh said, barely suppressing an eye roll. "Dr. Isles had just informed me that she's sent her report to your medical examiner already, Gibbs. So if you boys will follow me, I'll take you to the bullpen to get caught up with my people."

When the four of them walked away, Tony looked back over his shoulder to wink at Maura. Lagging a little behind Gibbs and Cavanaugh, McGee said to Tony through the corner of his mouth, "I think you're in dangerous waters there, Tony."

"Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Probie?"

"If Kate ever saw you flirting with her doppelganger…"

"Mc-cool it, McGee. I'm not afraid of her."

Angela, meanwhile, was fanning herself as the men walked away. "That Agent DiNozzo sure was a hunk, huh?" she asked, elbowing Maura and winking at her. Before the doctor had a chance to respond, Angela sighed and continued, "Janie's a beautiful girl, but I don't think she'd have a shot with him now he's seen you first! You girls are both so lovely, I really think timing _would _have to be everything! I've always hoped Jane would find a nice Italian boy to settle down with, but she never seems to go for them."

Rather than respond to this, Maura asked, "What is the status of your relationship with Lieutenant Cavanaugh, Angela? I thought you said he'd broken it off."

"He did!" Angela groaned, throwing her hands in the air.

"Hm…and yet, it would appear from his visage when he entered the café that jealousy managed to manifest itself when he saw you conversing with Agent Gibbs."

"That silver-haired fox?" Angela smilingly asked, so glad that while Jane cringed at talking about these things, Maura was always happy to gab (in her own unique way). "I would climb him like a tree!"

They shared a laugh over that, and upstairs, the mood was equally joyful. Korsak had a promising lead for their own case on the phone, and Frost was asking Jane what exactly had her in such a giddy mood. It wasn't like her to be pleased to hand over a case, but she just shrugged and said she had no reason to believe NCIS wouldn't do a good job: besides, they'd barely gotten a chance to start before another murder was dropped in their laps. Now each victim could have a whole team devoted fully to their case.

"Okay," Frost said slowly. "But you look pretty upbeat about… something else?"

"You ever been to The Glen?" Jane asked, naming the restaurant she had finally chosen from Maura's heavily annotated Zagat guide.

Frost leaned back thoughtfully in his chair. "Yeah, I think so. Yeah. They had _real _good ravioli there—I didn't recognize half the names of what went in the sauce, but it was like eating…" His hand hovered in the air for a moment as he struggled for the right word, and Jane indulged him in a laugh when he chose, "Sex. Why you ask?"

"Got a date there tonight."

"Really! Well, here's a tip." Jane sat on the edge of his desk, and leaned conspiringly closer. "If you wanna look demure and feminine for the guy—always a concern of yours, I know—go ahead and order the stuffed mushrooms for an appetizer. They're actually deep-fried, but it didn't say that on the menu. Fattening and delicious, but you'll look health-conscious for ordering it."

"Right on," Jane chuckled, giving him a fist-bump. She decided not to correct his assumption that she was going on a date with a man. Good as it had felt to confide in Maura (even if it came about accidentally), Jane wasn't yet prepared to around broadcasting it all over the bullpen yet. Although when she stopped to think about it, it would've been pretty easy to tell Frost she was taking out a woman. Well—yeah, easy to tell him, technically. But unlike Maura, who was apt to just accept things like a fluid sexuality, Frost would be likely to start asking her a bunch of questions she wasn't ready to answer yet.

Before she could internally debate about it any more, Cavanaugh swept into the room with three well-dressed men following behind. Frost stood up and Jane got to her feet as well.

Cavanaugh nodded at her. "Rizzoli. This is Special Agent Gibbs, Agent DiNozzo, and Agent McGee. NCIS. They'll be requiring your full cooperation on handing over the information you've assembled on the Barnes case."

"Yes, sir!" Jane chirped, going over to Korsak's desk to get the file they'd gotten started.

"That unusually obliging detective is Jane Rizzoli," Cavanaugh told Gibbs. "On the phone there's her Sergeant, Vince Korsak, and this is partner Barry Frost. They give you any trouble, you send 'em to me."

"Oh, I think we'll manage," Gibbs assured him. Cavanaugh shook Gibbs' hand before returning to his office. "We'll keep you in the loop, by the way," Gibbs said as Jane walked back with the file. "We appreciate it when local leos are… open to handing over cases."

Jane shrugged. "Way I see it, there's no point getting into a pissing contest over jurisdiction when we're all on the same side."

"Agreed, detective."

"Once Korsak there gets off the phone, we can catch you up on what we've got. If you guys are hungry, we could do it in the café downstairs."

Before Tony or McGee could jump in with how good a pastry sounded, Gibbs quickly replied, "Thanks, we just ate. Bullpen's fine."

Jane grinned in understanding. "My Ma got to you already, didn't she?"

Gibbs only smiled and opened the folder.

Once the team had been properly briefed, they piled back into Gibbs' car to return to their hotel for a consult with Ducky. Tony pushed his chair back as far as it would go (prompting McGee, in the back, to switch to the seat behind Gibbs) and put his feet up on the dashboard. "Good idea telling Kate to take Detective Rizzoli up on that date," he said gleefully. "She's psyched as hell."

"DiNozzo. You take pleasure in knowing we're exploiting her attraction for our own use?"

Tony's grin faltered. "Well…no. Hey, boss, c'mon. It was your idea!"

"Yeah, and I'm not particularly proud of it. Just needs to be done. And while we're on the subject, I don't need you hassling Kate about this assignment anymore. I hear another complaint from her, and I'm sending you two to couples therapy."

"Oh. I guess you wouldn't be interested in hearing my plan, then."

"Probably not."

Tony turned look at McGee instead. "I don't think it's safe for us to leave Kate in a compromising position. What if Rizzoli _is _dirty? What if she catches on to Kate's profession and something happens? We should be there for back-up. Y'know, just in case. So here's my thought: I can find out where this date is taking place, see, and then… ah, I dunno, take that sweet Dr. Isles out for dinner there, too."

"Just to help keep an eye on Kate, huh?" Gibbs asked.

"Well, yeah," Tony said, looking solemn. "Anything for the team, boss."

"Last I checked, restaurants were public places. That right, McGee?"

"Generally speaking, yes, boss."

"Rizzoli's not going to threaten Kate in a public place, and Kate's probably going to have a hard time keeping her cover if you're hovering in the background trying to tongue somebody who could be her twin," Gibbs said. "So: you take surveillance outside the restaurant. McGee will be ready to follow them by car if things go well enough that Rizzoli wants to take Kate back to her place. I'll get her address and stake it outside where she lives, be on hand in case anything goes wrong. If they take the road back to the hotel, McGee, I want you on it. Call me and I'll gun it over."

"Boss!" Tony moaned. "Can't I take the house lookout?"

"I'm not putting a camera in her bedroom, DiNozzo."

"How 'bout a microphone?"

"How about a slap to the back of the head?"

"Can you reach from up there?" Tony asked, leaning all the way back. The car swerved as Gibbs turned and slapped Tony's head. "Yup, totally walked into that one."

* * *

When Kate got down to the lobby at 7:00, her heart jumped into her throat a little at the sight of Jane Rizzoli waiting by the door in front, chatting up the doorman. She wore black dress pants with a crisp blue button-up shirt, its bold color interrupted only by the tangles of black hair that fell over her shoulders. As Kate walked closer, her legs feeling about as sturdy as Jell-O, she wondered vaguely whether anyone would guess she and this rather stunning woman were about to go on a date. (On the drive over, Jane had briefly considered stopping to buy flowers, which undoubtedly would have been a hint. She ditched the idea upon remembering they were meeting in a hotel lobby, not Kate's house. Besides, she didn't want to overdo anything.)

Jane only noticed Kate had come down when the doorman stared. She turned and grinned at Kate, who reflected it. One thing clicked almost instantly with Jane: she liked the simplicity and modesty of Kate's style; it was unassuming and classy. Her dress was a dark red color, and just as chic as the long black coat she had on over it. Kate's shoes were heeled but not scarily so (Jane could never look at stilettoes without thinking what good weapons they would make), and a hint of rouge, mascara and some brown eyeliner was probably more makeup than she even needed.

"Hi," Jane said a little breathlessly.

"Hello," Kate warmly returned.

"You, um…oh." She cleared her throat and reached a little awkwardly for Kate's hand, pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek. "Ready to go?"

"Rarin'."

In her very close appreciation of what Kate was wearing, Jane had failed to notice that one of the studs in Kate's ears was actually a microphone—a clever invention courtesy of Abby. The only one who had access to it was Gibbs, who told Kate he'd feel better about the op if somebody else was around—plus this way, he would have first-hand access to any information Jane might let slip about Doyle. She had agreed because she knew that unlike DiNozzo, Gibbs would only speak through the mic if strictly necessary, as opposed to offering an unsolicited opinion about how he thought the date was going.

"Trust me, Kate," he'd said. "You won't even know I'm there."

This turned out to be surprisingly true.

Tony, parked in an inconspicuous rental car across the street from The Glen, looked through a pair of binoculars as Jane pulled up to a spot outside the restaurant. The only person privy to what would be his semi-running commentary was McGee, stationed at the parallel street (Gibbs' thinking was that Detective Rizzoli's trained eye might be suspicious if she noticed a car parked outside the restaurant followed her home).

Looking on as Jane opened Kate's door for her, Tony whispered to McGee through his speaker, "Italian Stallion and Kate the Great are now entering the establishment."

"Oh God, Tony. You're gonna do this the whole time, aren't you?"

"You can count on it, Probie."

Jane tried to look casual as she approached the front desk. "Table for two?" asked the perky hostess.

"Yeah. I mean—uh, reservation? For Rizzoli?"

The hostess looked down at her desk, then glanced from Jane to Kate. "Of course. Right this way."

Jane started to follow the hostess, then stopped, and Kate nearly bumped into her. She raised her eyebrows curiously, and Jane, a bit flustered and trying desperately not to look it, gestured for Kate to go on first. The walk to the table seemed to last an eternity, and Jane's anxiety ratcheted with every step.

_There's a band here. A band where everyone looks at least sixty-five and they're playing jazz. I like jazz, what if she hates it? What if she thinks it's corny and old-fashioned and dorky? Or boring? And there's a dance floor. And nobody's wearing anything remotely normal, like, casual. This is __way__ nicer than that freakin' Zagat guide made it out to be! She's gonna think I'm trying too hard, it's the opposite of where we met in every frigging way! Oh geez, I'm never gonna make it through this. Why did I do it? Why am I doing this to myself? _

She was torn out of her thoughts when she realized they'd reached their table, and the hostess dropped their menus, also pointing out the wine list before walking away.

After a few silent moments, Kate said, "Wow, this place is gorgeous."

Jane let out a short breath. "You think so?"

"You don't?"

"No, I do! I definitely do, I um… I just worried maybe it was like—uh, _too _nice? I mean," she muttered, waving her hand. "Doesn't exactly bring the Merch to mind, does it?"

"That's exactly what I like about it," Kate whispered, leaning forward to make sure Jane heard the comment. "If I can be honest with you, Jane, I don't usually go to bars. And that one was a little groady for my taste. My sister once told me, 'if you want to meet a man who's going to mow your lawn, don't go to clubs. Go to Home Depot.'"

Jane furrowed her brow. "So…if you want to meet a lesbian, go to a lesbian bar?"

"Exactly."

It didn't take long for Jane to see the sense in this. The only reason she'd gone to the Merch was because she knew it was a place she could meet women. How else would she know how to find any who'd assuredly be at least playing for the right team?

"So take that a step further," Kate continued. "If you want to meet a woman who's going to take you to a really nice place with dancing, take up the one who was a total gentlewoman on the dance floor of that club you were both too good for. Well," she said as Jane laughed, "a gentlewoman except perhaps for that somewhat brash kiss at the end of the night."

"Hey, I had to give you something to remember me by, right?"

"If that's what you were worried about, your face would've been enough," Kate purred, putting her hand over Jane's on the table.

Jane slipped her hand away when their waiter walked up to the table. "Hello there, ladies!" he said brightly. "Is this your first time?" When he saw the color drain out of Jane's face and the slightly uncomfortable look on Kate's face, he realized he had left out the important final word. "Here?" he asked in a strangled voice. He cleared his throat and tried again: "Is this your first time here? At the Glen? With us?"

"Oh," Jane said with a slightly hollow laugh. "Yeah, um, yes. First time Glenners over here."

The waiter quickly delved into a spiel about house specialties and a description of the various spices that were laid out on the table before asking if he could take any drink orders. He looked at Jane, who looked at Kate, and thus he redirected his gaze.

"I'm…I think water will be fine, thank you," she said.

Jane, who had been wary of what she thought had looked like unusually high wine prices, let out a nearly-silent sigh of relief. "I'll take a water too, and um—do you have anything light on tap?"

"Yes, w—"

"I'll take it."

"O…kay. I'll be right back."

Once he had walked away, Jane asked, "Are you sure you don't want anything to drink?"

"Yes," Kate said, starting to peruse the menu. "I over-indulged a bit last night. When that happens, I like to take off a day or two to sort of set my mind at ease."

Jane picked up her menu. "Fair enough."

For the next minute or two, their conversation was centered around the pronunciation of various ingredients and postulation about how certain flavors might go together. They were ready to order by the time their waiter returned, and in addition to an entrée, Jane decided to take up Frost's suggestions and try the stuffed mushrooms.

"So I have a confession to make," Jane blurted once their waiter had left them again. "Um… I've never really done this before. Taken a woman out, I mean."

Until about twenty minutes ago, this revelation would have shocked Kate. After their interaction at the Merch, she never would've guessed that Jane was anything less than a lesbian lothario, totally confident in her every step, every word, every breath. Flirtation had seemed to come as naturally to her as breathing, and now, she was practically squirming in her seat.

"I see," Kate said softly.

And she didn't need Jane to explain a thing. At the Merch, they'd been surrounded by women who had only one thing with one gender on their minds. The lighting had been low; it was easy to be avoided if you wanted, to step in the shadows and watch rather than be seen. That was far from being an option here: this was a brightly lit restaurant where they could just as soon encounter a homophobe as an ally, a judgmental member of the Rizzoli's congregation as an indifferent stranger. Secrets could be kept at a club. Things were very out in the open here. So that was it, Kate reasoned. It was easy for Jane to be self-confident in an environment she felt she could control. It was a little harder for her to adjust to this atmosphere right off the bat. Hell, Kate would probably feel the same way if she hadn't mostly succeeded in telling herself this was all for a case—even if she knew that was a lie.

"I mean I've been with women before," Jane said, and she immediately noted the change in Kate's expression. _Um, try not to sound skanky? _"I just haven't, uh, actually taken one on a date. A real date."

"Oh."

"This is gonna sound like such a line, I know, but I couldn't get you out of my head last night," Jane said. "There was just something about you. I didn't get as much time with you as I'd wanted, and I felt really comfortable with you. I wanted to see you again, but not in that dark, grungy place."

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Kate said demurely.

Encouraged, Jane said, "Plus I like that I don't have to worry about contending for your attention here."

"Please," Kate sighed, picking up her glass of water. "Any contest last night ended as soon as you sat down at my table." This inspired a smile so wide it was almost goofy, and Kate melted. She found herself liking this slightly-nervous, self-deprecating Jane Rizzoli as much as she had the one on display last night, all cocky grins and neck kisses. "If I may ask—what's your occupation that made you run off so suddenly last night?"

"Ah," Jane said, glancing down for a moment. "Could be a deal-breaker."

"I can take it."

"I'm a cop."

"Really?"

"Well…homicide detective, actually."

"Do you find that usually turns people off?"

"Mm, one of two things. Either they hate it, or they just want me to use the handcuffs."

Kate had to laugh, knowing Tony would fall securely into the latter category. "Gotcha! Yeah, I can kind of understand that, actually."

"Yeah?"

"I used to be on the Secret Service."

Jane's mouth fell open. "_What? _You're putting me on!"

"Nope, it's true. Hand-picked to protect the President." She smiled at seeing that Jane was gaping wordlessly at her, clearly impressed. "Hell of an exciting job, I have to say. Scary, but fun."

"Ever get shot in the line of duty?"

"I've still got a scar, actually."

The Jane of last night was back: "If you show me yours, I'll show you mine."

"Oh, not in public, detective."

Jane crossed her legs. She looked simultaneously pleased that Kate had bantered back in such a way, and a little embarrassed at the same time. "So! Did you resign, then?"

"You mean as opposed to being fired? Yes," Kate chuckled. "Got a little tired of it, and tired of Washington. I need a change of scenery, and I thought Boston might be a nice change for a while."

"Why Boston?"

"Oh, I…" _Crap. Yeah, __why__ Boston? _"I've always liked history. It seemed like a good place to come after Washington."

"Oh, cool. I should hook you up with my friend Maura, our medical examiner. She could tell you anything you want to know about this city, starting with which areas were surely once graced with Thomas Jefferson's sneeze particles."

"Sneeze particles? You mean…snot?" Kate laughed, and Jane chuckled as well.

"Um, I was trying to stay classy in this place and not use that word," Jane said. "Nah, that's probably how Maura would say it, though. She has sort of a funny way about describing things sometimes. She's a little quirky that way, I guess. Always has to approach everything from a scientific angle. Half the time I have to ask her what the hell she's saying because she—she's kind of like Brennan on _Bones_; you ever watch that show?"

"A few times, yeah." (And frankly, she had always been grateful that the forensic specialist on their team was actually capable of comprehending not only sarcasm but pop culture references.)

"She's kind of a weirdo, but she's my weirdo, y'know?" _Uh, Jane. That's all fine and good when you're on a date with a dude, but you don't talk this way about another woman when you're on a date with a woman! What is wrong with you? _"She's my best friend. Just—just a friend."

Trying to put Jane's understandable concern at ease, Kate merely said, "How nice it must be to like the people you work with. I never particularly cared for many of the people on my team."

"Give you a hard time about being a woman, huh?"

"Oh, always. One especially was kind of a sleaze, and that got really old really fast."

"Ugh, I bet. We've got kind of a sleazeball in homicide; drives me crazy. I just thank God my superior and my partner are cool. And it helps to have Maura around a lot to sort of help with the estrogen count. Yeah she's a doctor and not out on the front lines, but I don't feel like I have to justify myself to her, and that's nice. She can just accept stuff. Like…" She lowered her voice. "She's the only one I told about this date."

Kate found herself smiling again. "You told her?"

Jane returned the smile. "Yeah, yeah I did. I was kinda nervous about it at first, but then I was kid of like, why? She's not gonna judge me, not gonna pray over my soul's ultimate destination. I think the only way she'd stop caring about me was if I turned out to be a murderer or something. And I knew she wouldn't gossip, either. She'd be cool."

"Is she the first person you're close to that you've ever, ah, discussed this notion with?"

"The notion of liking women? Yeah. She is."

"How did it feel to tell someone?"

Jane contemplated this for a moment, taking a long sip of beer. "It felt really good," she decided. "Her… well, 'approval' is probably a weird word to use, but the fact that she was totally awesome about it really helped me, I think. I mean, I feel like it really gave me a boost, like I was ready for this."

"And are you?" Kate asked, ready to act more nervous than Jane if needs be. She sensed that Jane was the type who'd step up to the plate and be the brave one if she had to, if she learned that both she and Kate were treading new waters here- that, if she had already slept with women, she was actually ahead of Kate.

But Jane got there on her own: "Hell. Yes."


	6. Dime and Date

Dinner conversation revolved largely around Kate's work for the Secret Service, which Jane found absolutely fascinating. There were plenty of stories to tell, many anecdotes being ones Kate hadn't found time to share in quite a while. She found that she really liked having such an attentive audience: it was a rare thing for her to go on a date with someone who was such an active listener. Maybe, she thought, that went with the territory of being a cop—you're used to jumping in when needed, and paying close attention (she didn't realize this was a tact Jane had honed since becoming Maura Isles' best friend). While Kate was sure Jane had many a daring escapade to share herself, she was pleased that the detective still laughed and gasped in all the right places.

"Geez, Kate. How'd you ever decide you wanted to be on the Secret Service?" Jane asked, finishing the last of her ravioli. "I mean, what were you like as a kid? Was your family surprised that it was something you wanted to do?"

"Mm, they thought it was a little ambitious," Kate chuckled. "I was the baby of the family: three brothers, one sister. Rachel and I've never been very close; she was the oldest, actually, and…" Kate shrugged. "She was always very book smart, very into studying psychology and neurobiology and stuff like that. I kind of had to fend for myself with three big brothers around, and I was just sort of more physical, you know? I was—suppose I still am—just as girly as my sister, but _I've_ always been able to protect myself."

"So why not put that power to good use and protect the leader of our fine nation?" Jane guessed, and Kate tipped her glass at her.

"How about you, Jane? God, I feel like such a jerk—we've just been talking about me this whole time!"

"That's okay," Jane said with a short laugh. "You're really interesting."

"I think you are, too," Kate said. "You're like this tall, dark and sexy package of intrigue." She smiled when Jane let out a chuckle at her choice of words. "So? Did you always want to be a cop?"

Jane nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. It was kind of hard to bring my parents around to it at first, especially my mother. She was a helicopter mom before that term even existed, y'know? So add to that the fact that I'm in a job where my life goes on the line every day, and boom, she's a nervous wreck all the time!" She laughed to let Kate know that she was sort of joking, that it was okay for her to laugh, too. "I think Ma kind of hoped my tomboyish-ness was just a phase I was going through. I was never remotely girly—like, I cried when Ma got me a pink canopy bed, and she cried when I told her I didn't want it!"

"Oh, no!" Kate said, smiling sympathetically.

"Yeah, stuff like that," Jane said. "I was really sporty, too. Not that girly girls can't be sporty, but …I dunno. Anyway, when other little girls said they wanted to be ballerinas or princesses or pop stars when they grew up, I wanted to be a fireman. Or 'fire-fighter,' as I guess the P.C. term is now."

"You didn't become a fire fighter, though."

With a shrug, Jane said, "Yeah, but how many of those girls actually want to be a ballerina when they grow up? It's the image that grabs you, not the actual vocation. We had a career day when I was I seventh or eighth grade, and my pal Kristy Capalbo's dad came to tell us about his job as a cop. He was just—man, I thought he was so cool! And I guess I thought maybe I had kind of a crush on him, too. Anyway I ran home after school all, 'Ma, I know what I wanna be! I wanna be a cop!' And I thought she was gonna faint on me."

"My mother was a little anxious for me, too," Kate said. "But she came to terms with it."

"Yeah, my Ma did too, in her own way, I guess," Jane said. Her features darkened slightly. "It was kinda scary, though. About half a year after he gave us his spiel, Officer Capalbo was killed. Caught in the crosshairs of one of our Irish mob wars."

"I've heard those were bad," Kate said, and Jane met her gaze again. "Was his killer ever captured?"

"Danny Flanagan," Jane sighed. "Actually, we just took him down last year. It was weird, though. I was thirteen or fourteen, and from what I heard on the news, everyone was pretty sure Flanagan had did it, so I asked my Pop why they didn't just arrest the guy. He said men like Flanagan could afford lawyers who were able to keep them from taking the heat." She shook her head, pursing her lips together before speaking again in an even lower voice. "And that just _really _burned me up. That story just sort of made me double my resolve to be a cop one day."

"It didn't scare you away?" Kate asked honestly.

"Nope. I wanted to see justice done, and do what I could for it. Ma's kind of proud of that, I guess. Still…" She sighed. "Someday I'll have to break it to her that my job's not the only thing keeping me from settling down with some nice Italian boy."

Kate cleared her throat awkwardly. "Sorry to assume, but …is your family Catholic?"

"Yup," Jane sighed. "I'd say more culturally than spiritually, though, which kind of sucks. Like when my parents split up last year, they had their marriage annulled rather than getting a divorce. I know," she snorted when Kate raised an eyebrow. "We'd go to church every Christmas and Easter, but really, it's more of a traditional thing. So that's why I kinda think the whole me-liking-women thing might cause some complications." Her gaze dropped to Kate's neck, and she nodded at it. "I noticed your crucifix there. Is that not a problem with your family?"

Blushing, Kate's hand automatically went to clutch her necklace. She was so accustomed to wearing it, she'd forgotten to take it off for this date. "I go to church when I can," she said honestly. "I guess I felt like it helped me on the job to have something or somebody to believe in. But then, I guess it's always been fairly easy for me to separate church from my—well, more _social _activities. As long as nobody's being hurt, what's the problem?"

"I like your attitude," Jane said, grinning and tipping her beer at Kate.

A short, comfortable silence fell upon them as Kate finished her rather-enormous salad. She was fishing around for something to say when she realized that she recognized the song that the restaurant's band had just started playing: _Begin the Beguine_. "Oh, I love this song!" she gasped.

She hadn't meant it to be more than a comment, but after saying it, she realized it may have sounded like she was asking Jane to dance with her. That was certainly how Jane took it, and for a few moments, a semi-awkward stare-off commenced, with Kate wondering if she ought to explain she hadn't meant it that way. But Jane really did want to take her up on the offer.

At home or at work, Jane still wasn't ready to share her dating life with anyone. But once or twice, inexplicably, she had wanted to make that facet of herself perfectly clear to strangers. It had started once when she and Maura had been mistaken for a couple at a café; the waitress had made a throwaway comment when giving Jane the check, and Maura had been in the bathroom. She hadn't bothered to correct the girl's assumption, and as they were leaving the café, Jane walked Maura out with her hand at the small of the doctor's back, waving at the waitress, who smiled in return. It had felt nice to be acknowledged. It hadn't been scary, because she hadn't known anyone there, and hadn't expected to ever see them again. For all they knew, she was comfortable in her skin, and it was good to feel that way. It was sort of a test-run: nobody had freaked out or been disgusted, but then, many patrons had probably assumed the two of them were just friends, anyway.

In a restaurant like this, that probably wasn't as safe an assumption. A better way to make sure nobody doubted the status of their relationship would be to invite Kate onto the dance floor amongst those other couples.

"Would…you…?" Jane started, gesturing nervously to the floor. "Would you like to dance?"

The invitation was so sweetly sincere, Kate didn't think she had it in her to say no. "Are you sure?"

This wasn't like dancing in a club, where all Jane really had to do was sway to the beat and let Kate come to her. It wasn't dim and dark. It was out in the open, with slow, meaningful movements that were more about being personal, not intimate.

So by way of response, Jane got to her feet and held out her hand.

The attempt was a little awkward at first; they silently agreed that Jane should take the lead (because of her height, not necessarily the butch factor). Also silently, Jane thanked whatever deity was listening that Sister Winifred hadn't been able to beat Jane's left-handedness out of her, because it seemed to come in handy here. Her right hand hovered near Kate's waist until Kate gently pulled it to rest there. She looked expectantly at Jane, cuing Jane to gulp and try to lead. She was a bit too pushy at first, and when she tried to make up for it, was not dominant enough. Kate swayed slightly in place, letting Jane figure out what it was she needed to do, and eventually she got there.

Well, sort of. "Oh geez, sorry," Jane said quickly after her second time getting Kate's foot.

"Jane, it's fine," Kate assured her. "Am I the first girl you've ever slow-danced with?"

"You're the first _woman _I've ever slow-danced with," Jane said back, deepening her voice slightly, earning her a grin. "Does it show?"

Kate leaned closer, speaking into Jane's ear. "You're doing just fine, detective."

They danced their way through one more slow song, as it seemed a shame to waste the fact that Jane had finally caught up a bit. But when the next tune turned out to be quite a bit faster, Jane laughingly admitted defeat: "I don't think I can keep up here!"

"I'll follow your lead," Kate deferred, and indeed allowed Jane to take her by the hand back to their table, where they saw their waiter had left a dessert menu. "I promise I'm not trying to a girl," Kate said, "but I don't think I could eat anything else!"

"Nah, I'm with you," Jane said, signaling their waiter for a check. "That food was wicked rich."

"Wait," Kate jumped in, trying to also catch their waiter's eye, but he'd already walked away. "Aren't we going to split the bill?"

"Of course not," Jane said. "I asked you out. I've got the bill."

"That's how it works, huh?"

"I'm afraid so."

After a brief pause, Kate said, "Well… would you be willing to go out to another place sometime of _my _choosing, and allow _me _to get us dinner?"

Jane lifted what remained of her beer, shooting Kate a winning smile across the table. "Definitely."

As they drove back to Kate's hotel (followed discreetly by Tony), Jane conversationally asked, "So what're your plans now that you're out of the secret service?"

"I haven't really decided yet. Why, got an opening in homicide?" Kate asked jokingly.

"No way," Jane chuckled. "But have you thought about being a cop at all?"

"It's crossed my mind, yes. One of my co-workers used to be a narcotics officer."

"Yeah, I used to be on that unit at BPD. Uh—I don't know if this is like a weird suggestion, but would you be interested in coming down to the station tomorrow, maybe for lunch? I could give you a tour, let you see if maybe you'd be interested in police work." When Kate didn't answer right away, Jane glanced over to see an apprehensive look on her face. "C'mon," she said with a grin that Kate couldn't help returning. "I'll even let you buy lunch, I swear."

"Okay," Kate laughed. "Sure, Jane, that would be great."

"Sweet."

When they got back to the hotel, Kate noticed that Gibbs' car was already in the parking lot. She supposed she oughtn't have been surprised that he'd beaten them back, even if he'd driven all the way from Jane's apartment. It was only then that she remembered the stud in her ear was a microphone, and that her boss had been listening to everything she and Jane had said that evening. Before she had time to blush, Jane's voice invaded her thoughts:

"Geez, this place is nice. One of the most famous hotels in Boston."

"I'd heard that, yeah. It's beautiful."

"Yeah…I've never been in past the lobby…"

Their eyes met again, and Kate found herself facing an odd contradiction: Jane's eyes were smoldering with sultry suggestiveness, yet they were somehow also paragon examples of virtuous eagerness. The corner of her mouth was turned up slightly; the smile wasn't cocky, it was merely hopeful. She wasn't forcing herself anywhere, and Kate found something incredibly appealing about that. And that was how, even though she was sure Jane wouldn't be offended if she'd said otherwise, Kate wound up asking, "Would you like to see more of it?"

Jane's smile widened. "You bet."

As they walked into the hotel, Tony leapt out of his car and went sprinting towards Gibbs. McGee drove up shortly afterwards, and joined Tony, who was gesturing wildly outside of Gibbs' car window. Gibbs merely held up a hand, and spoke into the mic that would feed through Kate's ear.

"Kate. I'm guessing by that invitation that you don't consider Detective Rizzoli to be a threat to your personal safety. If that assumption is correct, tell her which floor your room is on when you get to the elevator."

A few steps later, Kate pressed the _up _button by the elevator, and said to Jane, "It's twelve flights up. Beautiful view of the city."

"I'm sure it is," Jane said, after failing to come up with something along the lines of "you're the only beautiful view I need" that wouldn't have induced vomit.

Gibbs bit his cheek. "Agent Todd, I'm trusting you not to overstep your bounds here. I'll take this mic out of my ear—and keep it away from DiNozzo—given that you remember our room is across the hall from yours if you find yourself in any danger and need our help. If you feel safe with that plan, pretend to sneeze."

A moment later, Jane apologized for not having a handkerchief she could offer her date.

"Boss, what's going on, we're dying out here!" Tony said the second Gibbs finally got out of his car. "Why are you taking off your mic?"

"Giving Kate the privacy she deserves," Gibbs explained, leading the way back into the hotel. "If she feels safe now, we've got to trust that."

"I _do _trust Kate. It's that Jane Rizzoli I find to be very shifty," Tony said.

"I'm not giving you the mic, DiNozzo."

"C'mon, boss! What if we miss Kate's screams for help?"

"You only want to hear her if she's screaming for another reason," McGee pointed out. Gibbs and Tony both slapped his head. "Ow! Hey, it's true!"

"Guys? Come on, I think we can all agree on at least one thing," Tony said as the three of them stepped into an elevator. "Kate hooking up with another chick? That's hot. Am I right? I don't even have to ask. I know you've both thought about…" His smile fell a bit at the stony look Gibbs was shooting him. Switching tactics, Tony turned to face McGee. "I know at least _you've _thought about it, Probie."

"Believe it or not, Tony, not every guy is a pervert like you."

"What's so perverted about that?!"

"Fantasizing about your partner's sex life?" Gibbs asked.

"Okay, fine," Tony said. "I'm just going to ignore both of you and stand in the hallway outside Kate's room with a glass cup to the wall in case she needs my help."

"If they want a threesome, I'm sure they'll come banging on your door," Gibbs said, yanking Tony out of the elevator by the collar. "Until then, you're gonna help McGee do background checks on the marines Petty Officer Barnes was last seen with."

Meanwhile, Jane was admiring the view of Boston from Kate's window. It was a room Kate was originally supposed to have shared with Abby, which she had for their first night in Boston before Abby returned to D.C. The forensic expert had kipped on the trundle bed which was now folded into a very fancy-looking couch.

"Can I offer you anything from the mini-bar?" Kate asked, and Jane turned away from the window. "There's some…" Her voice disappeared as Jane sauntered over to her in a walk that combined the sexy swagger of a cop with that of a runway model. "Uh—B-Belgian, um, waffles…"

"Belgian waffles?" Jane asked with a grin.

Kate screwed her eyes shut. "Chocolate. Belgian _chocolate_. Wow."

"Hey." Kate's eyes opened when Jane reached for both of her hands. "All I want right now," she said quietly, "is to kiss you properly."

Kate was trembling with nervous anticipation, but didn't stop Jane when the detective gently transferred her hands upwards, cupping Kate's face and leaning down for a kiss. Kate's eyes closed automatically, and her first thought was _oh wow, I'm being kissed by a woman. _When she had bothered wondering about what this would feel like in the past, she had brushed it off with the politically correct notion that it would be just like kissing a man, but that assumption was now blown out of the water by touches she should have seen as obvious.

Jane might have been tough, but her lips were so soft. The skin on her hands was a bit calloused, but her fingers were slender and gentle. As she pushed forward slightly, her hair tickled Kate's cheek. Kate finally remembered the use of her own limbs and shifted her hands down to Jane's waist, pulling her closer. There was something comforting about the familiarity of Jane's figure, its womanliness beneath the slacks and the blazer.

A tiny gasp escaped Kate when Jane broke off the kiss.

"I…I think I need to sit down," Kate said weakly, now finding herself holding Jane's hand.

Jane turned and gestured to the couch. "Shouldn't be a problem. Y'know something that always kinda made me feel weird when I dated guys? They don't ever expect to be the one sitting on _your _lap. Guys have the laps, girls sit in 'em."

"You were never much of a lap-sitter, I take it."

"Not quite, no. I'd do it, but I always wished I could be the one underneath instead, you know? I just thought there'd be something really comforting about having someone come and, well, sit on your lap."

Kate gave Jane's shoulder a slight tap, indicating she should sit on the couch. Jane instantly obeyed, and Kate pulled her dress up enough to allow her the room to straddle Jane's lap. Jane's hands came to rest at Kate's thighs, and Kate swooped down for a kiss, curling her fingers in Jane's hair. Jane inhaled sharply and before she could ask if it was all right, if it was too fast, she teased Kate's mouth open with her tongue. Judging by the moan this move elicited, it was a perfectly fine instinct to have gone with. Kate turned her head slightly, pressing closer to Jane and kissing her relentlessly.

One of Jane's hands slipped around to cup Kate's ass, and she grinned to herself as she felt it tighten and Kate gasped. Jane shifted her leg and Kate—who had never seriously considered how two women might get each other off—suddenly found herself grinding against it. She moaned and held tightly onto the lapels of Jane's blazer, kissing her sloppily, hungrily.

_Oh—oh, can this already—_

"Oh God," Kate gasped, pulling away quite suddenly. "Oh, my God." She put her hand to her lips, the unappeased throb still going between her legs.

"Are you okay?" Jane asked concernedly. "I'm—geez, sorry, was… that not okay?"

"No, no, it was really…" Kate was waiting in vain for her heartbeat to go down, and she couldn't keep her tone from sounding as surprised as she felt when she said, "Hot."

Jane looked up at her with a crooked grin, catching the tone. "You've never made out with a woman before, have you?"

"What? No. I mean yes! I mean—Jane…"

"It's okay," Jane chuckled, running her hands up and down Kate's arms. "I'm a detective, sweetheart. I can tell. You had me goin' pretty good there for a minute, but you're even newer to all this than I am."

"I'm…sorry," Kate said, although she wasn't sure what she was apologizing for.

"Kate, don't say that. Unless—I dunno, are you just looking for an experiment? Because if you are, I'm… I'd rather not chase a straight girl."

"You don't have to chase me, I'm caught," Kate said. "And I'm not just looking for an experiment, I promise. I really, _really _want to buy you lunch tomorrow and dinner if you'll let me."

"Sold," Jane said with one of her grins Kate knew she'd be dreaming about all night. "So, uh… d'you think maybe we should call it a night, then?"

Kate jumped a little and got awkwardly to her feet. "I think maybe so," she said, offering Jane a hand. But when she'd pulled Jane to her feet, she couldn't help drawing her in for another kiss. Jane was happy to oblige, but she kept it short this time. Then, with a lopsided grin and a wink, Jane headed for the door—"I'll text you a time for tomorrow, Kate Todd. See you then!"

"Good-bye…"

After pacing in her room for a minute or two, Kate flopped onto her back on the bed and dialed Abby.

"Yo! Kate-meister, what's up?"

"I'm going to burn in hell, Abby. In a tiny room, locked up probably with DiNozzo, so he can torment me forever in my burning eternal damnation. Because I'm going to hell."

"Dare I ask why?"

"Jane's never dated a woman before!"

"What?! Are you telling me that was her first time at a gay bar?"

"No, I mean—I mean she's _been _with women before, but she has never actually gone the step of taking one out on a _real _date. Abby. She really likes me!"

"Why's that bad? She's hot."

"_Abby!_ Gibbs told me to go out with her because he wants to find out if Paddy Doyle has her on his payroll! I'm supposed to be finding out if she's dirty!"

"Dirty in…bed?"

"I swear, you are worse than Tony," Kate groaned. "How's she going to feel when she finds out that the first woman she felt seriously interested in venturing to date wasn't even interested in going to the Merch in the first place? She liked me and she trusted me enough to do this, and I'm being such an asshole! _Argh…!_" She flipped over and buried her face briefly into her pillow. "Why couldn't she be straight? Then Tony could be handling this; he has no problem keeping his emotions away from his sex drive!"

"Sex drive?" Abby asked. "So… Kate."

"What?"

"You really _are _interested in her, aren't you?"

Kate was quiet for so long that Abby almost thought the call had dropped. "I told you," she finally said softly. "This is—I think I am, yeah. Isn't that weird, though? I've never been interested in women that way before. Ever. And I honestly enjoy dating men! And sleeping with them! Why is Jane making me feel so different?"

"I don't know, man," Abby said sympathetically. "Could be a lot of things. Don't discredit it based solely on past experience, though."

"Well then, I think we can at least agree on one thing."

"What?"

Kate groaned again and slapped a hand to her forehead. "This whole thing is a _snafu_."

* * *

**A/N**: I'm conflicted and almost afraid to ask for reviews... I like Jane/Kate more than I thought I would.


	7. Awkward Is a State of Being

Jane had to laugh at herself the next morning when she got in the shower and realized she was whistling. Well, it wasn't quite whistling, but it wasn't just humming, either; something in between. Whatever the case, she was unusually happy, and unable to remember the last time she had been so eager for a second date. She took Jo downstairs to her favorite tree for a moment, and Jane's neighbors were surprised that her typically-surly morning manner had dissolved into something much more friendly. She was still hum-whistling when she got in her car, and practically beaming when she finally arrived at BPD.

Waving to her mother, Jane strolled past the café and hit the elevator that would take her down to Maura. When she entered the morgue, Maura looked up in surprise from her computer.

"Jane, the day just started," she said. "I don't have anything new for you yet."

"I know," Jane said, perching herself on the corner of Maura's desk and poking her shoulder. "I've got something for _you_."

Finally getting it, Maura leaned back in her chair and smiled. "About your date last night?"

"It was the best first date I've been on in _years_," Jane said. "I feel like I'm seventeen again, I mean I haven't been able to stop smiling since I got home!"

"Got home…last night, or this morning?" Maura asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jane laughed. "Last night. See, that's the thing, Maura. I've been going to the Merch—"

"You went back to that place?"

"Yeah, of course! I really liked how I felt there. I didn't have to flirt if I didn't want to; women would just come up and flirt with _me._"

"Are you saying men never flirted with you?" Maura asked, honestly surprised.

"Well no, but it was different," Jane said, not sure how she might explain this to someone like Maura. It had all made perfect sense in her head. "I guess I never saw dating as a power play, or maybe I just didn't _want _to see it that way, but I think it's different when you're the guy, y'know? Or no, never mind, I know you think that's all a cliché. It's just been my experience. I could act however I wanted around these women, show whatever side of me I wanted. I mean… remember Casey?" She had lowered her voice to a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder would summon Bloody Mary or Voldemort—or worse, Casey himself.

Maura snorted in disgust. "How could I forget him?"

Jane returned her voice to its usual volume. "He's kind of an extreme example, but I hated how I felt I had to be around him. Weak. 'Girly.' That was crap, that wasn't me, and I hated how it made me feel."

"Going to the Merch made you feel strong?" Maura prompted her.

"It made me feel like I was in control, yeah," Jane said. She sighed. "So anyway, I hooked up with a few girls—"

"Wait, wait," Maura said shortly. The revelation that Jane had asked a woman out on a date had been shocking enough. Learning that she'd had sex with more than one? _Take deep breaths, count to three. _"You 'hooked up' with girls? Plural?"

"Not at the same time," Jane said, frowning at Maura's expression.

Maura hastened to explain that wasn't what she meant. "Still, you've had intercourse with them?"

Jane gritted her teeth, looking around to make sure her mother wasn't secretly hiding behind the door or something. "Yes," she said. "But not with Kate."

"And…you're happy about that?" Maura asked, now definitely looking confused.

"Yeah," Jane said brightly. "I feel like this is a step for me, Maura. Like whatever it is I'm doing, it's not just a physical thing. I wasn't sure I could do it, you know? When you hook up after a night at a bar, it's just you and her, and you can leave her place in the morning, and nobody will be the wiser. But a date—it's official, and people can see it, and I had to feel confident in myself in a different way, and where it was all going. I'm kinda glad she slowed us down."

"If she hadn't, do you think you'd have slept with her?"

It was hard not to smile at the way Maura was talking about this, all clinical and almost business-like, not in the gossipy way so many women had. "I don't know, I might have," she said seriously. "This woman is _seriously_ hot, Maura. But I felt like we really connected in other ways. I didn't ask her out because all I wanted to do was sleep with her; I asked her out because I was curious about her. She's not like the others, and I'm glad I didn't end up treating her like the others."

"Well," Maura said, trying valiantly to imitate Jane's brightness. "I'm happy you're so happy."

"Thanks," Jane said, grinning and standing back up. "It's amazing having someone to talk to about all this, seriously."

Maura grinned and shrugged. "What are friends for?"

* * *

The morning turned out to go surprisingly well, with one of their prime suspects coming forward to confess. He was now being held as Korsak and Frost began work checking out his story, making sure he wasn't covering for anybody. Jane's gut told her the confession was actually true, as it filled in a few of the gaps in the puzzle she had begun constructing herself. She was given the go-ahead to take a bit of a break, and as it was too early for lunch, she headed downstairs to the department's gym. It'd been a while since her last good work-out (walking Jo Friday wasn't exactly exercise), and besides—she remembered Maura telling her that perspiration gave off what was colloquially referred to as "musk," something to do with pheromones or something. Maybe it would give her good mojo for her lunch date.

After she changed into a sports bra and some shorts, she texted Kate to see if she'd be free in an hour for lunch. The response was immediate and positive (and came from Kate in her hotel room, where she was busily making phone calls and running background checks on the scant suspects her fellow agents had dug up so far in their own case).

Fifteen minutes of warm-up exercise led to half an hour on the elliptical, and Jane was just finishing up with some free weights when she saw a suit walk into the gym.

"Ah," she sighed, sitting up and grabbing a towel to dab at the sweat on her forehead. "Agent DiNardo."

"DiNozzo," Tony said flatly. "I was told I'd find you down here."

"You were told correctly," Jane said, casually doing some curls as she talked. "What can I do for you?" She raised her eyebrows when Tony proceeded to do nothing but stare curiously at her. "Agent… DiNozzo?"

"Sorry, you just… I'm impressed. Your breathing doesn't even sound irregular. How are you doing that?"

"C'mon, man," Jane laughed. "You look pretty fit yourself."

"Really! Well thank you, detective."

"You're welcome. Now I repeat my question: what can I do for you?"

"Right. Me personally, or me as an NCIS agent?"

"Are you always this charming, or am I just lucky?" Jane asked, still laughing in spite of herself. Normally she had no patience for guys like this, but it was amazing what the promise of seeing Kate was doing to her patience. Still—"Before you answer, you may want to consider that I'm very good at grappling and you're wearing what appears to be a very expensive suit."

"Understood," DiNozzo said, taking a step back despite the noted jocularity in Jane's tone. "I came by as per our agreement to keep BPD in the loop. My boss is talking to your boss, and I thought I'd let you know Will O'Malley has become our main suspect."

"Oh, that bigot?" Jane snorted, dropping her weights and reaching for water bottle. "Figures."

"Bigot, huh?"

"I'm guessing you took a look at his history? Racially motivated hate crimes? That's how we finally got him."

"'Finally'?"

"From what we can tell, he used to be in an Irish mob," Jane said. "Got phased out when his boss realized O'Malley kept targeting people of a certain race, with little to no reason."

"And without the boss's okay, huh?"

"Yup."

"How exactly did you figure all this?"

"O'Malley's file is upstairs, DiNozzo. Ask Detective Frost for it, and it should tell you everything you want to know."

"Oh, I'll ask him," Tony said. "Our theory is that O'Malley is pulling some strings from inside prison. Think it's plausible?"

"Well, that depends on…" Jane automatically glanced at the door when it opened, and seeing Kate walk inside, she became instantly distracted. "Depends," she repeated dumbly.

"Depends?" Tony asked, not realizing anyone had come in behind him. "Like, those adult diapers Jamie Lee Curtis advertises?"

That pulled Jane briefly out of her Kate-induced reverie. "What? She does Activia, not Depends. Do they even _make _Depends anymore?"

"Oh yeah, who was on those commercials?" Tony asked.

Kate provided the answer, striding up to Tony and smiling at him pleasantly. "I believe it was Jane Russell."

"Of course! How could I forget. Jane Russell. _The Outlaw. _Famous object of Howard Hughes' affection. Obsession, some might say."

Rolling her eyes, Jane flipped her towel over her shoulder and said, "Agent DiNozzo, Kate Todd. Kate, Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He's with NCIS; they're helping us out with a case."

"How nice," Kate said, shaking Tony's hand. She was smiling, but Tony understood it was a try-and-leer-and-you-will-die kind of smile.

"How about you, Ms. Todd?" Tony asked. "What brings you to BPD?"

"She and I've got a lunch date," Jane said.

Tony laughed airily, folding his hands in front of himself. "Well how sweet! Old friends?"

"Yeah, just catchin' up," Jane said quickly. "Sorry you had to come looking for me, Kate, I was unexpectedly detained. Could I ask you to give me like, three minutes? Just enough for a minuteman's shower so I can change into something you wouldn't be embarrassed to be seen with in public."

"Of course, go on ahead," Kate said, gesturing to the locker room. Once Jane had disappeared inside it, Kate's smile took off as well and she scowled at Tony. "You can quit drooling, DiNozzo. She's a _lesbian_. She's not interested in you."

"Oh, I know," Tony said lightly. "I'm just trying to picture whatever went down between you two in your room last night."

Kate's catlike grin returned. "Yeah? Is it a good picture?"

Tony raised an eyebrow back at her. "Could do with some details from a first-hand account."

"Oh. Well…" Without losing her fake sweet smile, Kate swiftly kicked Tony in the groin, sending him instantly to the floor. "Unfortunately for you, I don't kiss and tell." Saying nothing else, she walked towards into the locker room, where Jane was standing by her open locker, grabbing a fresh towel. "Jane."

"Hey! Kate, sorry I wasn't upfront with DiNozzo about uh, the nature of our date," she said. "I would've told him, but he seems like the type of guy who would've blabbed about it to my team, and I kind of want them to hear about it from me, first. At, you know, a time of my own choosing."

"Trust me, I understand," Kate said, rolling her eyes. When Jane looked curiously at her, she said, "Just from the few moments I spent talking with him, and from my considerable experience not only as a profiler but as a woman, I can say you figured him correctly."

"Good," Jane chuckled. "So…we're okay then, right? You still wanna do this?"

Kate's eyes widened. "Of course! Are you having any doubts?"

"No," Jane lightly. "No, of course _I'm _not."

It took Kate a moment, but then she realized that Jane might be feeling a little anxious because for the past minute or so she'd basically been half-naked, and Kate hadn't even had the decency to so much as lick her lips. It had been incredibly hard to refrain, but upon seeing Tony was with Jane, Kate had fought strenuously to hide any wolfish expressions. All she needed was Tony teasing her about needing a drool cup. Now that they were alone, however…

Kate took a few steps closer, dragging her eyes down Jane's mostly-exposed, sweaty physique. Her voice had lowered nearly half an octave when she murmured, "You didn't think I was disappointed, did you?"

"Well," Jane said weakly, her back to the row of lockers as Kate stopped right in front of her. "For a second I… I guess maybe I was a little bummed nothing seemed to make an impression."

"Oh, you're making an _excellent_ impression," Kate assured her, stroking her fingers against Jane's abs. Both of them tensed, and Jane let out a shuddering breath.

Jane rolled her shoulders and grinned, resting her hands lightly at Kate's waist. "Yeah?"

Her grip tightened on instinct when Kate whispered "yeah," then did the only thing she'd been able to think about since last night and pulled Jane down for a strong kiss. She had never really looked twice at another woman before, and yet here she was now, obsessively massaging her hands over Jane's abdominal area, pushing her tongue past those wet lips. Jane's hands moved up to Kate's hair, but didn't stay there long; she broke off the kiss shortly afterwards.

Seeming to remember herself, Kate cleared her throat and took a small step back, needlessly smoothing out her top. "Just in case you worried I wasn't still interested."

"Message delivered," Jane said, grinning in disbelief. They stared at each other a few moments later, until Jane finally shook her head a bit and nodded behind her. "Kay. So uh, unless the second date is considered the shower date, uh…"

It wasn't really an invitation to join her, which was probably a good thing, because Kate almost felt like she'd have accepted. "Right," she said, backing up. "Um… I'll just meet you in the café I saw upstairs, then."

"Good deal," Jane said. "I'll see you there in five."

On her way back out through the gym, Kate passed Tony, who was still lying in a crumpled heap on the ground. "Now maybe you'll learn to always wear a cup around me," she said lightly as she passed. When Tony said that was cruel, Kate called back that it was only fair. When she reached the main floor, she bumped into Cavanaugh and Gibbs, and nearly blew her cover by greeting her boss.

Seeing she was about to speak, Gibbs quickly said, "Excuse me, miss—you didn't happen to see an NCIS agent down there, did you? Brash, brown hair, probably would've asked you out?"

"Oh yes, he's down there," Kate replied. "I believe he was having a word with one of your detectives," she said to Cavanaugh, who was looking at her with an expression of light confusion on his face. "Jane Rizzoli. She and I are having lunch today."

"Right," Cavanaugh said gruffly. "Good. She did good work today. Ask her about it."

"Certainly."

The two men headed for an elevator that would take them down, and Gibbs nodded at Kate. They'd spoken that morning about the fact that Kate and Jane had a lunch date, and Kate had convinced him that she didn't need an earpiece this time around. He trusted her enough to be able to retain any relevant information, and on the off-chance that she might be in danger, Kate had agreed to allow McGee to be on surveillance. She would text him the name of wherever Jane chose to go for lunch, and he would stake-out with a pair of binoculars (and, presumably, a jealous Tony whining in his ear).

As she sat in the café, she noticed a man in uniform kept shooting her what he had to think were discreet looks. He didn't appear too sketchy or creepy, so Kate smiled politely when he finally maintained eye contact. She looked down at her phone to occupy herself, and after a few moments, glanced up to see the man had moved to stand next to her table.

"Oh," she said simply.

"Can I—may I sit down?" he asked, indicating the chair across from her.

"Oh, sure. I'm just waiting for someone."

"Ah," he said, sitting down. "I figured." Kate put away the phone, waiting for him to say more, but he remained silent for several long moments. In fact he was quiet for so long that Kate was ready to get her phone back out just for something to do, when he finally blurted, "I'm Frankie. Frankie Rizzoli."

"Rizzoli! Oh, hello!"

"Hi," he said, not seeming surprised that she recognized his surname. "What was your name, again?"

_Again?_ "Kate Todd."

"Right, right, Kate T—oh, I thought your last name was Martin."

Kate furrowed her brow. "Martin? Officer, are you sure you're not confusing me for someone else?"

Now it was Frankie's turn to look confused. "Aren't you… you're not Maura Isles' sister?"

"Who?"

"Oh. Wow, uh, sorry!" Frankie said slowly, though he was starting to laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling incredibly awkward under Kate's polite smile of bewilderment. "Geez, I—I' m sorry, I just could've sworn that you were, uh… somebody else. You look a lot like our medical examiner. Wow, that's weird. I was about to ask you how your kidney transplant went. That might've been awkward."

"Maybe just a bit," Kate agreed. "Although that could've been true in either case."

"Uh…maybe, yeah. So, wait. If you're not waiting for Maura, then who _are _you waiting for?"

The answer to this question came when Jane showed up, dressed and cleaned, putting her hand gently on Kate's shoulder. "Hey, ready to go?" When Kate got to her feet, Jane waved cheerfully at Frankie and led the way out. She was sure he was going to want an explanation later, and she'd be ready to give him one at some point. For now, she was just grateful that the timing had worked so that Angela would be on her own lunch break—she wasn't sure she was ready to try and explain away Kate to her mother yet.

For lunch, Jane had suggested a few nearby places, and Kate chose the one with a specialty in seafood. As they sat down, she told Jane that Lieutenant Cavanaugh had suggested she inquire about the morning's success, and though bashful at first, Jane eventually recounted the story of their case. Kate appreciated that while Jane was modest—attributing success where it was due to Korsak and Frost —she was also justifiably proud of her own accomplishments, and wasn't shy about sharing them when pressed.

"So anyway, now that it's pretty much wrapped up, we might go back to helping NCIS out with the case they took over for us," Jane said.

"What's it been like, working with them so far?" Kate asked, smiling.

Jane chewed thoughtfully on that one for a moment. "Their boss is pretty cool, I guess. Chill, mellow, you know—but like he gets stuff done. Then there's DiNozzo and McGee, and McGee's sort of like their tech guy and DiNozzo is—well, you met him."

"Token douchebag?" Kate asked.

Jane laughed through a mouthful of food, surprised at the language choice. "Token! Yeah, I guess everyone's got one of those, huh?"

"DiNozzo was telling me a bit about the case before I um, joined you in the locker room," Kate said, pushing some salmon around her plate. "He said the body was found at a dock owned by Paddy Doyle."

"That slick bastard," Jane muttered, poking at her food with unnecessary force. "I tracked him for over a year. Finally had to take the help of the FBI to get him, and then what's he do? Break out. I dunno if he had someone on the inside or what, but damn. I was about ready to kill something when that happened."

"Do you think he's involved with the murder of that petty officer?"

"Nah," Jane muttered. "Doyle doesn't kill women."

She changed the subject.

When they got back to BPD, Jane could tell Kate was lingering on wanting to ask her something else. She assumed it was about whether or not they were still on for dinner, but instead, Kate sighed shortly and said, "Would you take me to the morgue?"

This was so not what Jane had been expecting that she had to laugh. "Wow! You really know how to be shown a good a time, don't you, Kate Todd? Or is this your way of indicating you'd like to do some kind of joint pact suicide thing? 'Cause I have to say that does sound re_motely_ appealing."

"No," Kate chuckled. "We were talking last night about you giving me a proper tour of BPD, so I could kind of see what it might be like to work as a cop, remember? Probably kind of different from Secret Service stuff."

"Oh, a fair bit, I guess," Jane said. "Why the morgue?"

_I want to meet this medical examiner I look so much like. _"General investigative work I'm familiar with. A morgue is something I've only ever seen on my TV procedurals."

"Hm," Jane murmured, tapping her car door. "That may be a good idea, actually. If I take you back to the café, my mother will be there. If I take you to the bullpen, _our _Token Douchebag, Detective Crowe, will probably make a pass at you. Then I'd have to punch him in the nose, and that'd probably lead to a lot of dull paperwork."

"What makes you think I wouldn't beat you to that punch?"

"Fair point. Anyway, I guess the morgue is actually where I feel the most comfortable bringing people. It's where my friend Maura works. I think you two should meet." _Then maybe Kate won't feel like I'm trying to hide anything_.

"And who knows? Maybe I'd make a good morgue tech."

Jane laughingly led the way back into BPD, where they ran into Gibbs and McGee. "Agent Gibbs!" Jane said. "DiNozzo find everything he needed?"

"He's still talking with your partner," Gibbs said. "We're making progress though. McGee," he said, smiling lightly, "You weren't with our team at the time, but a couple years ago, Air Force One hosted a crime scene for us. Hi," he said, holding out his hand for Kate to shake. "Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Remember that case? You were pretty hands-on."

Not sure where Gibbs was going with this, Kate nodded slowly. "Oh! Of course, yes! I was wondering why you looked familiar. My superior officers said you were quite a piece of work."

"Only way to get the job done," Gibbs said with a small grin. "Would you agree, Detective Rizzoli?"

"There's something to be said for determination," she agreed.

"Was Tony on your team back then?" McGee asked.

"No," Kate said quickly before Gibbs could answer. "I would _definitely _remember a skeeze like that. No offense to your team, Agent Gibbs."

"None taken," Gibbs snorted. "Well, you two have a nice day." He stepped aside as the ladies passed, returning his well wishes, and he and McGee got outside.

"Uh, boss? What was that about?"

"Gotta say, I'm not sure long-term undercover work is Kate's area," Gibbs said. "That's the second time she's looked at me like she knows me. Detective Rizzoli's not an idiot. She might have a crush, but she's not blind. Don't want her thinking anything's up."

McGee wagged his finger knowingly. "Oh, I got it! So you gave Kate an out."

"Exactly."

Kate had silently come to the same conclusion as Jane led her down to the morgue. Every undercover assignment she'd taken so far had been a one-time deal, ending very quickly, or at least keeping other people besides the team in on it. Being around Jane made her nervous enough, but lying to her was making it monumentally more difficult to be herself. Noticing Kate's suddenly sober demeanor, Jane stopped just outside the morgue.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked quietly. "You sure you want to go in there? Could be pretty heavy."

"Hm? Oh no, yes, I'm fine," Kate said, giving her head a little shake. She smiled reassuringly at Jane, who hesitantly reflected it. "I think this will be good for me, a good education. Besides, you said Maura was the friend you'd told about me, right?"

"Yeah," Jane said with a soft smile. She was about to take Kate's hand when the morgue doors swung open, admitting one of the techs.

"Oh, excuse me, Detective Rizzoli!" he said, almost doing a funny little half-bow before quickly running down the hallway.

"You like intimidating them, don't you?" Kate guessed, smirking.

Jane opened the door and pretended to scowl. "Not my fault the little poindexters are all scaredy cats."

At the word "poindexter," Maura had looked up from the new body with a frown on her face. She was about to remark that Jane's timing was sort of unbelievable, when she gave one of her rare double takes instead. "Oh, my," she said.

"Maura! This is Kate Todd," Jane said brightly, walking over. "We just had lunch, and I thought I'd sort of give her an insider tour of where I work. Kate, this is Dr. Isles, our chief medical examiner."

"He…llo," Kate managed, shaking Maura's hand. Both of them looked at Jane, who was beaming at Kate and acting as though there was no resemblance between the two women whatsoever. Ultimately deciding to follow Jane's lead, Kate smiled at Maura and said, "Jane's told me a lot about you. Says you're a real whiz kid. Or, whiz woman, I guess." When it looked for a moment as though Maura wasn't sure whether that was intended to be complimentary or not, Kate struggled for a save. "Oh! Dr. Isles, is that a Cassandra Strickenberg you're wearing?"

Jane looked at Kate in surprise, and Maura's eyebrows rose. "You're familiar with her work?"

"Of course! The detail in her beading is absolutely exquisite. When I saw the pictures from her show in Milan, I almost _died_."

"Wow," Jane said flatly.

Maura glanced at her before returning her gaze to Kate. "Ah. Well, as nice as it is to meet a fellow fashion aficionado, I'm afraid now isn't a good time for gab," Maura said, not particularly rudely, as she glanced at the file that the morgue tech had handed her.

As Maura carefully unzipped the body bag, Kate said, "Would it be all right if I observed?"

"If you care to," Maura said, returning to the file's notes and doing her best to remain professional.

"Hm, no signs of trauma," Jane observed, leaning over the table. "Uh… mucus looks kinda bloody, though. Paramedics note how long she was ill?"

Frowning, Maura glanced back at the file. "A week. Neighbors said she was home from work wit a bad cough." She put down the file and leaned closer over the body, peering at the woman's face. "Significant plural effusion…" Maura lifted the dead woman's arm, and looking alarmed, studied her hand. "Splinter hemorrhages—_oh, no_." Trying not to hyperventilate, she gently placed the woman's arm back down and looked over at Jane and Kate. "I'm going to tell you both something very frightening, but I don't want you to panic, all right?"

"Good start on that, Maura," Jane said warily.

"Hold your breath and move as fast as you can to the crime lab," Maura instructed, even as she hurried in the opposite direction. She lifted a panel that said "red alert" and pushed on the button she found there. "We have a code red!"

* * *

**a/n**: Come fly with me and suspend your disbelief, for the sake of fanfiction. Also, I have not forgotten Kate has a tattoo.


	8. High Voltage

There was the time she had irreparably K.O'd the engine of Danny Maggione's car when he'd tried teaching her how to drive a stick shift. There was also the time Peter Jenson got pantsed at the mall food court, and he'd only been wearing a jock strap beneath it. Possibly the highest contender had been in college, when she'd made the mistake of bringing Harry Brooks home for dinner, and he'd spent five minutes lecturing the family on precisely what made the painting by the front door so awful—only to be told it had been done by Angela.

Yup. Having to strip down and shower in case of a potentially fatal airborne disease would probably never be topped in Jane's book as _the _worst second date ever.

"Any idea what we're looking at here?" Jane asked, nervously pacing in front of Maura's desk.

"It could be any number of things, Jane. SARS, ebola, dengue fever, West Nile virus, anthrax…"

"Anthrax! Ha," Kate said, trying to lighten Jane's stress a bit. Even if it had been her own idea to come down here, she knew Jane was the type who'd blame herself if anything went wrong … which it definitely had at this point. "I've already survived a brush with that—uh, in the Secret Service, after 9/11. What's the worst that could happen?"

Jane looked at Kate but held up a hand to stop Maura from elaborating. "Do not ask that question unless you want a highly unpleasant and detailed answer."

"Noted," Kate said warily, seeing the way Maura's eyes had widened in alarm at her question.

Maura jumped up when a man in a hazmat suit entered the crime lab. "Captain Green!"

"I need to know your level of exposure," he said.

"Limited physical contact, possible aspiration."

In a voice just as clinical and unexcited as Maura's, Green started passing out bags to each of the women. "Remove your clothing, put them in this bag, shower with the decontamination soap. Then change into the tyvek suits."

As he walked away to resume his work, Maura couldn't help pouting, "I've only worn this Cassandra Strickenberg _once_!"

"Oh, how awful!" Kate sympathized.

"Yeah, I'm crying a river over here," Jane grumbled. "I'll try not to sob too loud in my decontamination shower. Which is where, exactly?" She looked over her shoulder where Maura was pointing, and saw a nothing but a shower head and lever. Turning back to face Maura, she asked through her teeth, "_Where is the stall?_"

"Well, now's no time to be modest, Jane!" Maura chastised her. She was already undressing, pulling her shirt up over her head to reveal a simple black bra underneath. Jane vaguely registered surprise that Maura wasn't wearing something terribly fancy; she'd always assumed Maura would've been the type to drop a lot of money on nice underwear. Not that she'd ever spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about what Maura would wear under her clothes. Maura's voice snapped her back to attention: "The longer you delay, the greater chance you have of becoming infected!"

As Maura prepared to take off her skirt, Jane inhaled sharply and turned away, only to be greeted by the sight of Kate. Her arms were crossed near the hem of her shirt, preparing to pull it up, but she halted when Jane caught her eye. There was something a little different about having seen Jane in a sports bra and shorts this morning, and then stripping in front of each other now. Jane's recent string of one-night stands had been very out of character and somewhat unfulfilling for her, which she figured was why she was anxious about seeing Kate undress in front of her.

Although it could also have something to do with the fact that somebody else was there, too. And oh yeah, maybe anthrax. This was not sexy, it was life-threatening.

Kate raised an eyebrow at Jane and slowly pulled her shirt up and off. "Better get a move on, detective," she said, as Maura slipped under the shower.

Jane gulped and glanced out the window of the crime lab, where several men in hazmat suits seemed a little preoccupied from doing their jobs. "Can't when there are so many pervs around," she said with a scowl, setting a large garbage can on top of one of Maura's carts and pushing it in front of the window. She stooped and started to remove her shirt, stopping halfway there when she heard a giggle coming from Kate's direction.

"I'm sorry," Kate chuckled, now wearing only a lacy, flesh-colored bra and a pair of navy blue slacks. "You're… really cute when you're flustered, Jane." _And incidentally, really hot when you're not wearing clothes. _

"Kate," Jane sighed. "I'm really flattered, but this isn't the time!"

"Oh. Well," Kate said, unbuttoning her pants and letting them drop to the floor, followed shortly by Jane's jaw. "I just figured so long as I'd gotten a look this morning, you deserved something, too." She tilted her right hip slightly and saw Jane's eyes shoot directly for the tattoo there. "Disappointed?"

Jane tried to breathe normally, which was remarkably difficult. "Are you serious?" she squeaked.

"Me?" Kate laughed, once Jane had finally gotten her shirt off. "Look at you, it's like you're photoshopped!" There was no response to this aside from an awkward laugh, and wet-T-shirt-winner Kate stepped out of her slacks and moved a little closer to Jane. "Don't sweat it, Jane. I guess the second date _is _the shower date, after all."

_Anthrax, anthrax, __**anthrax**_. Jane kept the mantra going through her head, as it seemed to be the only way to keep herself from launching at Kate. She staunchly turned around and leaned her head towards the garbage can, knowing all hope would be lost if she continued to watch and saw Kate pull off her bra or matching panties. She concentrated on just getting her own possibly-contaminated clothes off, figuring if she pretended she was by herself, it would be easier to just get done with.

"Any towels over there, Maura?" she asked, dropping her shirt into the bag Captain Green had given her. A moment later, what appeared to be a yellow washcloth was flung in her direction. "_Really?_" she groaned. "This won't cover much!"

"I already told you," Maura said over the spray of her shower. "Modesty isn't the point here, Jane!"

Jane held the towel up in front of her as best she could, then kicked the garbage can towards Kate, who looked ready to walk in front of the large crime lab window. Feeling sufficiently protected from the wandering eyes of the men on the other side, Kate smiled and folded her arms on top of the can, nearly leering at Jane.

"I'm surprised at you, Jane," she said, sounding amused. "From your behavior at the Merch, I never would've expected you to be this jumpy."

"That was a front, Kate," Jane said shortly. "I mean—it was, and it wasn't. I just feel weird here, I guess. This could potentially be a really, really bad situation. It shouldn't exactly be… arousing."

"You're right, it shouldn't," Kate agreed. "And yet…"

"And yet what?"

Kate just shrugged, continuing to grin. "Did you go to a Catholic school, Jane?"

"Yeah."

"Coed?"

"Yes."

"Uniforms?"

"No."

"Our Lady of Sorrows. Class of '95. All girls. _Uniforms._" She refrained from laughing when Jane screwed her eyes shut and banged her head against the wall. Kate scooted the garbage can back across the room towards Jane, as Maura started drying off. Whispering into Jane's ear, she said, "Just consider that while I take my turn _decontaminating_."

And now, there was certainly no hope of decontaminating Jane's thoughts.

Distraction arrived briefly when Maura walked over in her incredibly baggy tyvec suit, promptly returning to her desk and opening her computer. She calmly pulled up a browser and began to type hurriedly, until she became aware of the fact that Jane was staring at her. When she raised her eyebrows, Jane beckoned her to come closer. Maura held up a finger and returned her eyes to the screen, typing out one more sentence before walking over to Jane.

"_What?_"

"Gimme your towel!"

"No! That's highly unsanitary!"

"Maura, this is—Kate and I only just got off our second date!" Jane hissed. "We haven't slept together yet and this is all—I mean I know you're all over nudist tennis playing and hiking or whatever—"

"I said that was on my wish list, Jane. The hiking. I've never actually done any of it."

"_Whatever! _The point is it's one thing for you to be comfortable about all of this because you're not attracted to either of us! Can't you appreciate how awkward this is?!"

Maura allowed her eyes to travel down the expanse of Jane's body, which was indeed left fairly uncovered by the skimpy towel. When her eyes met Jane's again, she sighed and said, "Yes, I can appreciate how that might feel. However, I would think that considering the circumstances that have led the two into this current state of undress, you would be a little more concerned about your safety and a little less concerned about how many tattoos she has."

"How many?" Jane immediately asked.

"From what I saw, at least two," Maura said. "A rose on her right hip and a something on her left buttock—I wasn't quite able to make out the shape, and I wasn't about to stare. That would've been highly indecent."

"I gotta sit down," Jane groaned.

"Not on my furniture until you've taken your shower," Maura said sharply.

Kate finished her own shortly thereafter, and decided she had to admire Jane's dedication not to look. Once she had securely pulled on her tyvek suit, she walked over to Jane and nudged her shoulder. "All yours, tiger."

As Jane shot like a bullet for the shower, Maura returned to her computer and called over, "Don't rush it, Jane! I know you like to consider yourself a minuteman in every facet of your life, but this is one time you need to take it slowly! Get all those hard-to-reach places!"

"A little louder, Maura, I don't think Detective Crowe heard you in the bullpen!"

Maura just rolled her eyes. Kate cleared her throat when Maura started scanning her browser again. "Got any leads there, Dr. Isles?"

"Yes, I'm talking to an official from the CDC. There have been no outbreaks of any hemorrhagetic diseases anywhere in Massachusetts."

"That's good, right?" Jane asked from the shower.

"Yes," Maura reasoned. "But there has been an outbreak of bacterial meningitis …in Boston."

"Is it treatable?"

"Yes."

"Yahoo!"

"Jane, don't celebrate until we get the test results back on our clothes."

Fortunately, they weren't left waiting much longer. Susie Chang dutifully arrived in a timely manner, proclaiming that the test results were in, and that it was in fact bacterial meningitis. Captain Green returned with their clothes, announcing that they were all free to go, which caused Jane to go into another brief round of celebratory whooping. Kate smiled at the antics, and all of them were relieved that the atmosphere no longer held the weighty fear of a deadly virus.

"I'm so glad my old co-worker wasn't here to harass me about this," Kate said, untying her tyvec suit and getting back into her clothes. "Three women getting lathered up and showering around each other?"

"Skeeze's dream come true," Jane snorted, putting on her own clothes with lightning speed, covering what she could with the tyvec suit until everything was on.

"Well, Kate, it's been a pleasure," Maura said, smoothing out her skirt before reaching to shake Kate's hand. "Except for the near-death experience, that is. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay here at BPD."

Kate checked her watch. "Oh, I'm going to have to take a rain-check on the rest of that tour, Jane," she said. "I've got a conference call in less than twenty minutes that I can't miss!"

"Gotcha," Jane said. "I'll walk you to your car."

"Jane, when you're through, I'd like a word," Maura said.

"Sure, about the case?"

"Just come back."

"Okay."

Jane escorted Kate to the elevator, and it was silent between them until the doors had closed, leaving them the only people inside. "So," Kate finally said, gesturing outwards. "Is… that done?"

"What?"

"You and Maura."

"Whoa! Me and—Kate, Maura and I've never been together. Not in any sense of the word."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I _sure?_"

"I felt like I was picking up a bit of a vibe. And then there was that remark about all those 'hard-to-reach places,' and wanting you to take your time…"

Jane felt bad for chuckling, but she couldn't help it, even when Kate shot her a peeved look. They exited the elevator, and as the hallway was fairly empty, Jane felt safe in leaning closer and saying, "Trust me, Kate, Maura's not capable of dropping hints like that. We're close, but we've never been between-the-sheets close. If we were, she'd know there's at least one area of my life where I really like taking my time. Especially concerning those hard-to-reach places."

Having that whispered into her ear at such a low register and such a husky whisper made Kate's knees feel weak. The flustered, half-dressed Jane Rizzoli was a cute one she could handle. The one who talked like this, even fully-clothed, spun her head.

The elevator next to them opened, slightly taking away from their moment as it produced Maura. "Kate, you forgot this downstairs," she said, handing over a green bracelet. "It must have fallen out of your bag."

"Oh, gosh. Thank you, Dr. Isles."

They were all interrupted when Tony suddenly appeared, running down the hallway, flailing like a wounded roadrunner. "Dr. Isles!" he gasped, throwing his arms around Maura. "Thank God you're okay!"

"You…two know each other?" Jane asked.

"And Detective Rizzoli—!"

Jane took half a step back, offering her hand for a shake when Tony tried to embrace her as well. "Whoa, I don't do hugs."

"Agent DiNozzo and I met yesterday," Maura explained. "I had just finished my meeting with Lieutenant Cavanaugh when NCIS arrived to exchange notes with you."

"How nice," Jane said. "Glad he was cooperative. Kate, let's go. You don't wanna miss that call."

As Jane led Kate down the hallway, Tony explained to Maura, "I was just on my way to pick up one more file from Detective Frost." He waved a manila folder. "And I heard there was some kind of outbreak in the morgue. I just wanted to make sure everybody was okay."

"Oh, we're fine," Maura sighed. "It was only bacterial meningitis."

"What a relief, huh?" Tony laughed. "I've been in your shoes, only worse, I guess. We had somebody mail anthrax to our office once, and it got pretty bad. We had to do the whole decontamination thing. Almost died."

"How terrible," Maura said, genuinely concerned.

Tony rolled his shoulders. "Ah. You know. I manned up, and it was fine."

Gibbs appeared at the end of the hall, and was not patient enough to walk down to his agent. "DiNozzo! Flirt on your own time, for once!"

"Right, boss. Later, doc!" He winked at Maura before backtracking quickly down the hallway.

He was soon replaced by Jane, who was smiling at Maura as she pressed the down button on the elevator. "What was it you wanted to talk about, Maura?"

She wasn't quite sure where to start: the implications of Jane dating a woman who so closely resembled her, or what the odds were that Tony and Kate—who, Maura's eagle eye noted, always seemed to recognize each other—had both recently been exposed to anthrax in separate places.


	9. Angela Will Always Be a Buttinsky

Maura closed her office door with a snap, but Jane didn't notice anything unusually brusque about it until the doctor circled around her desk and stared at the detective with a look of unmistakable annoyance. Jane's goofy grin slid slowly off her face as Maura's eyes narrowed. She remained unsettlingly silent, lips pursed, cuing Jane to finally get concerned.

"Maura, what is it? Are you—what, are you upset I brought down a visitor without clearing it with you first? That's never been a problem before!"

"Jane, your girlfriend looks _exactly _like me," Maura finally said, her voice heavy.

Well, _that _was somewhat unexpected. "Whoa. Okay, first of all, Kate's not my girlfriend. We've been on _one _date. Well, two, if you count today's lunch and near-death experience in your office."

"Okay," Maura said, folding her arms. "So you are dating and fully intending to have sex with someone who looks exactly like me."

"_She doesn't look _exactly _like you!_" Jane hissed, trying and failing not to sound totally defensive. "I mean, for one thing, she's… got… brown hair! You don't have brown hair. It's dirty blonde, or something. And! And, Kate's got freckles on her face, going in a line under her eyes, like this." She gestured where they would lay on her own face. "Plus she's gotta be like, five years younger than you, so—that factors in somehow, right?" When it looked as though Maura would be capable of vaporizing Jane with her gaze, she hastily added, "Eyes! Your eyes. Kate's are brown, and yours are—"

"_Also brown!_"

"Aren't they hazel?" Jane asked weakly.

Maura stalked around her desk to be on the same side of it as Jane, stepping indecently close. "My eyes. Are. _Brown_."

"Well um, _light _brown, though."

"Light brown is still brown!" she almost shouted.

"Geez, Maura!" Jane cried, taking a step back out of self-preservation's instinct. "Okay, so there's a _passing _resemblance between the two of you. That's—"

They were interrupted when Frankie suddenly came barging into the office. Paying no attention to the looks on the women's faces, he walked straight towards Jane and wrapped her up in a strong embrace. She hugged him back as he said, "Thank God you two are okay! I was out picking up a suspect with Frost, and we just heard you guys had an outbreak down here."

"Turned out it was just bacterial meningitis. Nothin' to be worried about," Jane said matter-of-factly. She smirked. "Maura here probably just wanted an excuse to see me strip down in front of her."

Maura's jaw dropped and Frankie raised his eyebrows. "If that was a joke, Jane," Maura started.

"It was."

"It didn't make much sense. I've seen you undress multiple times in the locker room at the gym, and that one time I walked into your changing stall prematurely at Cashman's."

"Oh geez, can we not talk about that?" Jane sighed, stealing a glance at her brother. She had cracked the joke in the first place partly in hopes of seeing how Frankie would react to it, even knowing the comment had been in jest. He looked warily amused. "Anyway," Jane said hastily. "I'm surprised Ma hasn't come down here in a tizzy to check on us yet. In fact, I'm kind of insulted."

"Stan had a pretty long line and wouldn't let her come, so maybe you oughtta just get upstairs," Frankie said. "Maybe you can get there in time to keep her from inviting those NCIS agents over for Sunday dinner—kinda looks like she has the hots for the old one. Oh and Jane, I've been wanting to ask you. Who was that woman in the café you left with who coulda been Maura's sister?"

Jane did not give Maura the satisfaction of looking her way, instead grabbing Frankie's arm and pulling him towards the door. "Why don't you gimme something useful, Frankie? Are the NCIS boys still here?"

As it transpired, Gibbs and DiNozzo were no longer at BPD. They had met up with Kate back at their hotel while waiting for an expected phone call from Abby. Now sure that there had been no real danger with the outbreak, Tony wasted no time in teasing Kate about the experience.

"How many stalls were there? Did you have to all shower together? Did you get a good luck at Rizzoli? I mean, you were getting a good eyeful down at the gym."

"Tony, I don't shower and tell," Kate said, crossing her arms. She knew that acting hassled or overly-defensive would just be playing into Tony's hands; being cool and secretive about it, maybe letting him think she had enjoyed it, caught him off guard and he didn't quite know how to react. Raising an eyebrow at him, Kate turned to look at her boss. "Gibbs, I don't think Jane is Doyle's inside man."

"Why not?" Gibbs asked calmly.

"A couple of conversations we've had. The reason she got into police work at all is because when she was a teenager, one of her friend's fathers got killed in the crossfire of an Irish gang war. And when I brought up Doyle at lunch today, she looked sick. She hates him and his guts. She'd never work for him."

"Or," Tony said, walking over, "She's a real good actress." He nodded at Gibbs. "Boss, she doesn't even have a real Boston accent. I smell a Meryl over here."

"Tony, I'm a trained profiler," Kate said through her teeth. "She's being honest."

"Really!" Tony laughed. "Y'know, Kate, if you were a guy, I'd say you were thinking with your—"

Gibbs was going to slap the back of Tony's head, but Kate beat him to the punch (literally) by giving Tony's shoulder a hard shove. "Tony, you _ass_hole! You'd never say that about Gibbs; you'd say he was going by his gut! And that's all _I'm _doing!"

Speaking in a much more serious tone now, Tony said, "Last time I checked, Kate, Gibbs' gut never got us all almost killed! Or have you forgotten the last time your feminine intuition went into high gear, and that crazy, expert munitions lady you felt so sorry for _blew up the building _we were all standing in?"

When Kate angrily started retaliating, Gibbs whistled loudly to get his agents' attention. Tony turned towards him, looking aggravated, and Kate was flushed and livid. Rare was the occasion that they saw their boss angry enough to raise his voice, and this was one of them.

"I don't want to hear another word from either of you two! You are not to speak unless spoken to _by me_, understood_? _Anthony. Apologize to your partner."

"Boss, are you serious? This is just how we talk! It's ribbing. Harmless."

"I have nothing against a little towel-snapping, DiNozzo, but I think Kate's worked with us long enough to earn your respect. You owe her a little more loyalty. Or while we're talking about past mistakes, would you like me to pull up a list of the dozens you've made?"

Tony looked penitently at the floor. "No, boss."

"Didn't think so. Go find McGee and while you're at it, put a BOLO out on Ryan McNally's car. Kate and I will field Abby's call."

"On it, boss." He made to move, but Gibbs grabbed his arm before he could leave. Tony looked at him curiously, and Gibbs nodded in Kate's direction. Tony nodded stiffly and barley met Kate's eye. "Sorry, Agent Todd."

"Your sincerity is overwhelming," Kate said sarcastically.

Tony sighed heavily and scratched his head. "You're a good field agent," he said. "And you've got balls of—uh, or… ovaries of steel compared to McGee's balls, which are probably cotton if he has 'em at all. And you probably aren't thinking with your lady parts, but maybe your heart. If I had to pick your main weakness, it'd be that you trust people a little too much."

Kate dodged when Tony tried to pat her cheek as he passed. "Thank God that's never going to be a problem around _you_," she huffed. He waved airily and closed the door behind him.

"Sit," Gibbs told her. She settled herself on the edge of the bed, and Gibbs pulled over a chair. As he sat himself down, he said, "I was going to tell you before that our team responds to my gut feelings because I'm the boss. I've had more experience. I've maybe gotten a little carried away on assignments of this nature." He averted his gaze when Kate looked curiously at him. "I already know most of what you know, Kate. Tell me everything."

"Jane isn't dirty," Kate said quietly.

Gibbs nodded. "I can respect your wanting to think that. But have to do more that just want to give her the benefit of the doubt."

"You bend the rules sometimes," Kate said. "And I don't just mean when you want a favor, or are trying to find a way around some red tape. Trying to get an answer faster or get a witness to cave quick. You'll lie, you'll cheat, you'll do what it takes to see that justice gets done."

"I don't make deals with crooks," Gibbs said, his tone patient.

"I know, that's not what I mean," Kate sighed, frustrated that she wasn't seeming to be able to communicate this articulately. "You'll turn a blind eye when it suits you. You'll set it up so the bad guy gets killed by one of his own or you'll goad him into a fight if you think there's a chance a jury will save his life. You'll protect the people who are close to you at whatever the cost, often without bothering to check with or tell the director. True."

Gibbs brushed his jaw. "True enough."

"From my research on Jane's past cases and my interaction with her over the past couple days, I would venture to say she's very much the same," Kate went on steadily. "It would probably help if I could get a good feel on Dr. Isles' opinion of her birth father, and their relationship. But based on what I've found so far, I really think Jane's the type who might have kept her mouth shut about Doyle ever being in town—if she knew—because she was wary of hurting her relationship with her best friend. I mean you read the article that was published after Jane shot him. Maura didn't even want to speak to her. Jane might've spread herself too thin trying to appease her friend and the law at the same time. She loves her job too much to risk anything like living in Doyle's pocket."

"You seem very sure about this."

"Well, at this point, I _feel _pretty sure."

"Then you know what you have to do."

Kate stared at him a moment before she got it. "Talk to Maura and find out what her relationship to Doyle is like exactly." She sighed when Gibbs nodded. "How do I do that naturally? Why would the woman her friend is dating ask her such a personal question?"

"You'll find a way," Gibbs said calmly.

Well, that wasn't surprising. "Guess I don't have a choice."

"Guess not."

* * *

Jane wound up having to cancel her tentative dinner plans with Kate, because work, as it was wont to do, reared its ugly head and roared away Jane's social life. Kate figured it was just as well, and spent the time digging up the scant material available which covered the relationship between Maura Isles and Paddy Doyle with the least amount of sensationalism. The next night was the last Sunday of the month, when Maura indulged Angela in having over all of the Rizzoli kids for dinner, along with another person or two that she might like to invite. More often than not this was Korsak and Frost, but occasionally were old family friends (who would inevitably gossip with Angela about whose sons they knew who might like to date Jane).

Sunday morning, Jane was in such a good mood from confirming a lunch date with Kate that she didn't even hesitate to smilingly open the door when Angela knocked and announced her presence.

"Morning, Ma!" she said, surprisingly cheerfully as Angela walked inside.

"Honestly, Janie, would it kill you to clean up now and then?" Angela sighed, looking around at the messy state of the apartment. Usually Jane's housework left much to be desired, but this morning it looked sloppier than usual—which was really saying something. Talking over Jane's half-hearted attempt to defend herself, Angela went on, "Don't tell me it's because you're all zonked out from this case you're working. I hear you vacuum when a case stresses you, so judging by the state of your floor, you aren't very stressed right now."

Grabbing a glass of water, Jane frowned and asked, "Who told you that?" She couldn't ever remember sharing the tidbit with Maura.

"Your neighbor, Marissa," Angela answered, removing a dog toy from the otherwise least-offensive corner of the couch.

"How d'you know Marissa?"

"I met her last week. I came by to drop off some dirty clothes you'd left at Maura's, and I kept knocking, but you weren't home. Marissa heard me knocking and came out to say sometimes you didn't hear the door 'cause you were vacuuming. And _I _told _her _that as your mother, knowing you the way I do, I wouldn't have thought you'd know a vacuum cleaner from a golf cart!" (Jane rolled her eyes.) "And she said you usually vacuumed to 'de-stress' during a case."

"Wow, awesome. What else she tell you?" Jane grumbled, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

Angela pursed her lips and looked down, pretending to study her nails. "That she has a crush on you." She looked up when Jane audibly choked on her water. It was hard to tell if the redness creeping into Jane's cheeks had to do with guilt, embarrassment, or lack of breath as she tried to get oxygen back to her lungs. When it became clear that Jane wasn't going to be cohere enough to comply for another few moments, Angela went on, "She didn't actually _say _that word-for-word; it was just _how _she said it while she looked at your door."

"Geez, Ma," Jane grunted once she had enough air. "You shouldn't jump to conclusions like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…I dunno!"

"Don't you want to know what exactly it was she said?"

"No, I don't. I'm not interested."

"Thank God," Angela said, half-laughing into the groan. Jane felt her heart plummet as she wondered how exactly her mother had meant that. "I guess what a person does in the bedroom is their own business, right?"

"Sure, Ma," Jane muttered, staring at her hands.

Angela's tone became a little more businesslike: "Now. The reason I came over here in person is to let you know I invited those NCIS agents over for dinner tonight. Maura's been kind enough to help me with the preparation, and while I know it's probably a waste of breath, I thought I'd invite you to help out, too." When Jane did nothing but stonily stare back at her mother, Angela scooted a little closer, trying to engage Jane more. "Jane, you know sometimes the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach!"

Jane was too busy imagining the ways in which Maura might adorably misinterpret that sentence to realize right away where her mother was going with this.

"Italian boys especially appreciate when a woman cooks something for him, and I think that Agent DiNozzo is—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Jane cut her off, finally catching up. "No, Ma. Just—no."

"Jane!" Angela pouted. "Why did you ask me how to make grandma's gnocchi if you never want to take a chance to make it?"

"I do!" Jane argued back. "I make it for myself, I've made it for Maura, I brought it to one of Frost's parties once! If your problem is that I haven't made it for a _man_, well, sorry! That's not why I wanted to learn it!"

"Honestly, Jane. It isn't your looks that keep men away. Think about that."

Jane vaulted up off the couch and started to pace a little: when she was this upset, she couldn't sit still. "Oh, you think my personality drives men away? What a darn shame! I guess I'll have to settle for the dozens of _women_ who've been beating down my door lately!"

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop to process them, and they were gone like water over a dam. Angela's eyebrow shot up so high and so fast that they seemed in danger of disappearing into her hair. Jane quickly tried to read her expression: horrified, or just surprised? Wondering if perhaps Jane had just been _trying _to shock her? Anxiously, Jane dropped her gaze; fear momentarily flickered out her tiny flame of growing courage.

"According to _you_, anyway," she mumbled, sitting back down in an attempt to be inconspicuous.

"I said one woman, not dozens. Don't exaggerate. Now, Jane. Anthony's a very sweet boy. I think you two would get along really well!"

"He's a perv, Ma."

"What, you mean a pervert? Anthony?"

"Yes, Anthony!"

"It's always something, Jane!"

"What is?"

"Men! You told me long ago you'd find one for yourself, but you're obviously no good at it, and you always have some issue with every one I pick out! He's a brass-kisser, he's sloppy, he's too dumb, he's too brainy, too preppy, too lazy, too Catholic, too perverted! What does a man have to be to please you?!" She stopped when Jane looked on the verge of answering, but got more frustrated when Jane satisfied herself by glaring darkly at the corner, arms folded tightly. "I'm not gonna give up, you know."

"Ma." Jane's voice was surprisingly weak in contrast to her sharp position.

"I'm not! I don't want you to die alone, and Jane, you're almost _forty! _I don't know if maybe you've given up on yourself, but _I _haven't given up! I won't!"

And Jane could see it: years of her mother trying desperately to help her only daughter find a husband. Man after man. Some of them intolerable, some of them nice, but none of them ever right. She had already ignored years of Jane's pleas to be left alone. She would sneak something, force some man in her life. It was never going to stop, not ever. Maybe even if Jane just came out and said she liked women, Angela might still think she was doing the right thing by trying to set her up with men. But maybe also it'd finally shut her up. Maybe it would finally explain all the fruitless years of dating. Maybe she would see how futile her efforts were.

It was such a legitimate reason to ask to be left alone, and it was the only one Jane had left.

"Ma, I'm not gonna die alone!" Jane said, a little louder than she'd intended. "For a while I thought yeah, maybe I would. I thought I was just one of those people who didn't need somebody, that I was fine just with my friends and my family and that I didn't need a—a _spouse_. But now I know it's not gonna be that way. I'm _confident_, for the first time in my adult life, that I am not going to die alone. I'd given up on myself and I hated the way I felt when you tried to set me up, all pathetic and unhappy and not getting anything from it. But my faith in myself came back. It's back. I know I'm good now."

Angela's voice was a reverent whisper: "Oh, Janie. You've found someone?"

That wasn't quite what Jane had meant. While she liked Kate, she had only known the woman for three days, and that in no way qualified her as a soul mate. What those three days _had _done, however, was prove to Jane that she did have the capacity for joy—not just fleeting pleasure—in every facet of her life. Before Kate, she had been prepared to resign herself to a life of hook-ups, going to the Merch when it suited her and getting action whenever she wanted it—because oh, could she get it. Maybe she would still date men, just for show. Just to make her family think someday there would be hope for her. Maybe she would wind up carrying this secret to the grave, lying to everybody she loved just for the sake of appearances.

But then there had been Kate, there had been a connection which included but went beyond the physical. There had been the pride and happiness in being able to take her on a date, to be in public with her. There had been the giddiness in sharing her excitement about it all with her best friend. For the first time in years, there had been that belief of _I can do this. I can be happy. Maybe I won't die alone after all; I've just been going about it the wrong way. It all makes sense now_.

So Jane didn't directly answer Angela's question. She just shrugged slightly and said, "Ma? I'm gay." Her tone was almost matter-of-fact, forcibly calm and steady so as to seem to her mother that this was not a terrifying admission to make. Trying to make it seem like very dull, unimportant news when it really was something of a terrific reveal. She half-shrugged again, shaking her head and looking at the floor. "I'm gay."

"You're…"

"Yeah." Jane looked up, chewing her lips when she saw Angela's eyes filling with tears. "Ma, that's it. Don't try to 'fix' me or pray it away, 'cause you've basically been doing that my whole life, and it hasn't worked. I never got it before. And then …I mean, now I get it." She chuckled darkly.

"There's no…I mean, you'd never—?"

"Ma, imagine you had to make out with another woman." When Angela reflexively made a face, Jane gestured to it for effect. "See? That's how I felt inside every time I've kissed or made out with or whatever with a man. It's not felt right or been right in any way. I wasn't ever hurt by the guys I dated, it was just weird. Uncomfortable. With women, it's the total opposite. It's just …it's right, Ma. It's right for me."

A long silence fell between them, and Jane figured it was the calm before the storm. She braced herself, waiting for the tirade that had to be coming: the _I didn't raise you to be this way!_s, the hurt, the betrayal, the anger and sadness, the falling to her knees and begging God right then and there to know what she'd done to deserve such a deviant daughter. The admonishing. The Bible-waving.

Indeed, Jane tensed when Angela put a hand on her knee and said, "Well, I guess I've got me a lot of praying to do." Quickly realizing how Jane might misinterpret this, Angela squeezed her knee and added, "I gotta pray to understand it, Jane."

"What, you think God's gonna tell you how to understand how lesbianism works, Ma?" Jane asked, almost laughing.

Angela smiled a little herself. "No, I mean understand how to be… how to get stuff faster. I always kinda thought it, Jane, especially over the last couple years. It was just lodged in the very back of my head. I've been praying all these years for the wrong thing, because all I prayed for was that you'd find a good man who'd take care of you. What I should've been praying for was to be as brave as you are."

"What d'you mean?" Jane asked in a hushed voice.

"Your kids are a reflection of you, in some ways. I… I guess I just wanted you and your brothers to look 'good' to everyone else, whatever that was. But you _are _good, Janie. You are. Being…" She paused, rotating her hands, letting the word "_gay" _tumble out of her mouth as awkwardly as if she'd been about to throw up—"doesn't change that, really. What you do in the bedroom is your business, like I said."

"First of all, Ma, clearly _nothing _I do is ever considered only my business," Jane said dryly. "You can say that, but you know it's not true. You always butt in. And secondly, you're missing the point."

"What point?"

"I don't _want _it to just be about what I do in the bedroom," Jane said plaintively. "I want to be able to be with a girl at Sunday dinner, and not tell all you guys that she's just a friend. I wanna be able to hold her hand on the bus, at work, in front of my family. I wanna be able to steal a kiss at Christmas. Let everyone know."

Angela laughed a little, brushing away some tears that had fallen. "Well, then," she said, her voice a little higher than usual. "That's what I need to pray for. To get my head around it. Don't get mad, please," she said, though Jane only looked surprised, not upset. "I love you Jane, I do. I always will. It's just you've had a while to get used to this, I assume. I've only had a couple minutes of officially knowing."

"Officially," Jane snorted. "Geez."

"I have to say, given that Maura said she can't lie, she's done a very good job of keeping a lid on your relationship."

"A…Ma, _what?_"

"Well it's obvious," Angela said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, who else would it be? What do you think made me start wondering about it in the first place? You two always _did _seem a little too close just to be friends."

"Ma, we aren't—Maura and I aren't dating! We're _just _friends!"

Angela's expression was one of pitying adoration. "Jane, you've already outed yourself to me. You don't have to lie about Maura anymore! She's the reason you won't be alone forever!"

"No, no, Ma—"

"You sleep over at her house all the time, and she's practically a member of the family. You pick her up and drop her off whenever you go out for dinner or drinks. She's told me how much you've hated every man she's gone out with since you've known each other, and I've noticed she's been through a bit of a dry spot lately! And when you shot Doyle and Frost and I wanted you two back together—heck, I gave you advice from my old _marriage_ counselor, didn't I? Sometimes it felt more like trying to get a couple back together than two friends! And oh, she can magically get you to do thinks you've sworn you'll never do: yoga, running a marathon, going to modern art shows—my gosh, she even got you to believe that dancing is a sport! Years of mocking tutus and _Dancing With the Stars_, and now you finally appreciate it!"

"Okay, in my defense, _Dancing With the Stars _still totally deserves my mockery."

"So you don't deny it? You and Maura?"

The reason Jane didn't respond right away was because in a way, everything Angela had just listed had been a piling bunch of clues that had helped Jane realize she might want to end up with a woman. She enjoyed spending time around Maura in ways she never had with men. Dating was a chore. Going to hang out with Maura afterwards was the best part. Jane just hadn't been sure for a while if it was actually Maura herself, or just the comfort of her being another woman.

"Are you _sure _it's not Maura?" Angela asked.

"Geez, Ma. _Yes_, I'm sure. We are not dating."

Now Angela almost sounded offended: "Well why the hell not?"


	10. In and Out of the Loop

**A/N**: A thousand apologies for not updating sooner! Things have been very hectic on my end lately, but thankfully, summer is here now! Yay! So the next update should definitely be up sooner. Action-packed and all.

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Kate glanced up when the bell over the café's door rang again, and this time it was finally Jane who walked in. She was smiling from ear to ear, apologizing for her tardiness and giving Kate's cheek a swift kiss. A hostess led them to a table in the far corner of the café, and once a waiter had been by for their drink orders, Kate smiled and remarked, "You seem unusually chipper this afternoon, Jane. Break in the case?"

"Oh, it's better than that," Jane said, closing her menu and looking over at Kate. "I… something big happened, Kate."

"What?"

"I just, um…I just came out to my mom."

Although it was clear by Jane's tone that she'd been about to share good news, Kate still hadn't been expecting something of that magnitude. She laughed and leaned back a little in her seat, admiring Jane as the detective smilingly tried to scan the menu. "Jane! That's—wonderful! That's so great. Judging by your reaction, I'm assuming she took it well?"

"Y'know, she took it all right," Jane said, nodding. "All things considered, I mean. I kinda think she's been half-expecting it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well…" Jane took the time to stall when their waiter returned with their drinks. She figured it wouldn't be a good idea to say her mother had assumed she was dating someone else, especially someone Kate had also assumed Jane had a history with. Picking up her menu again once the waiter left, she said, "I was never really a girly girl, y'know? So I think Ma probably thought about it."

"And then there's me. I know I work in what's considered a masculine profession, but I've always been fairly girly. I love getting all dressed up, I love clothes, I love spa weekends."

"Ugh, spas," Jane groaned. "Tell me the appeal of sitting in a bath full of mud. I don't get it."

"You don't get the notion of being pampered?"

"My idea of pampering myself is getting a greasy slice of pizza, a cold bottle of beer, and watching the game with my friends."

"Mmm…baseball?"

"Yup."

"Red Sox fan, I take it."

"Of course." She glanced up from the menu to see Kate looking down, fighting a guilty-looking smile. "Oh, no. No, no. Don't tell me you're a Yankees fan." When Kate only laughed, Jane pretended to groan. "Kate! No. Leave this table _right _now!"

"Aww, Jane, that isn't very good sportsmanship."

"Hey, I'm just trying to be honest about what I'm looking for in a woman. She needs to have good standards and good taste. That means not groveling to the Yankees."

"That's such a narrow point of reference, though. Couldn't you say a woman has good taste based on the fact that she's on a date with you?"

"I dunno; it could just mean she's desperate," Jane teased.

Somehow they made it through lunch without Jane turning the question back around on Kate, to find out what—even jokingly—she might be looking for in a relationship. That wasn't to last, however, as all too soon, Jane was driving Kate (who'd walked to the café) back to her hotel to avoid getting caught a sudden rain. At the hotel, Jane pulled into a relatively secluded area of the parking lot. As the speed of the storm picked up, raindrops sounding almost like bullets on the windshield, people rushed past their car with bags or newspapers held desperately over their heads for cover.

"Uh…Kate?" Jane asked, her voice unusually serious. "I kinda wanna ask you something."

"What is it?"

"Um… so, I get the feeling once my mother really settles with the whole notion of my being, uh, into women, she's gonna find a way to nose into my dating life. I haven't really told her much about anything or um, anyone yet, or even that I've actually been with women already. So I don't want you to feel pressured or, on the other hand, like—insulted if I don't, y'know, introduce you right away as… well, that's the thing." She waved her hand between them for emphasis, taking a deep breath. "I guess I just wanted to know—for myself, not my mother—where you see this going. Or not even that, because I know we've only been on a few dates, but um… like… where you're standing with all this."

Kate took a shaky breath. "Oh."

Jane spoke quickly: "And I only ask because you mentioned you'd never made out with a woman before, but um, you also said you weren't just looking for an experiment, so…?" She waited for Kate to pick it up, but when she remained silent, hurriedly added, "I don't need you to take a vow or anything. It'd just, I think, make this kinda easier for me if I knew what it was _you _were looking for. I can be very accommodating to most situations."

"Most?"

"Yeah."

Kate's fingers trailed along Jane's arm, and she finally returned her gaze. "Can you come up for a minute, or do you need to be someplace?"

Less than five minutes later, they were safely inside Kate's hotel room, where she went on to perch herself on the edge of the bed. Jane stood by the TV, leaning against the cabinet, waiting for Kate to dictate how she wanted this to go. But when it seemed that Kate still wasn't entirely ready, Jane asked, "Are you like me? I mean… was it just something you repressed for a long time?"

"You've never been interested in men?" Kate asked.

"No, not like I should. _'Should_,' Jane added, lazily using air quotes with one hand. "I tried to make stuff work, but not—I mean, even really recently, when I started going to the Merch, I never thought I'd have the courage to really do what I wanted. Do what I've done with you," she explained, gesturing towards Kate. "Pick you up. Take you to dinner. Have a date out in the open. I fancy myself this independent badass, but I've always tried to fit in in a way that wouldn't sh-shame my family, you know? So with me and guys, it was like square pegs in round holes. Just couldn't work. And uh, not even _trying…_" She chuckled wearily, knowing it wasn't a very pleasant euphemism, "Was any fun."

"I'm sorry," Kate said sincerely.

"So…" Jane finally gave into temptation (somewhat), walking over to sit next to Kate on the bed. "Why'd you go to the Merch that night?"

"I decided recently that it was an avenue I wanted to explore," Kate lied smoothly. "I mean, you understand the whole Catholic, forbidden-pleasures thing, right? I just sort of wondered if maybe I was going through life with one hand tied behind my back because my dating pool was so limited. And to be honest, Jane, you've been an absolute dream."

Jane smiled lightly. "A dream! Well. Haven't heard that one before."

"Yes. You're bright, you're funny, you're dedicated to your job and your friends…" She reached over and tucked away a long strand of hair from falling in Jane's face. "You're considerate, and you are _super_ hot."

At some point Jane had intended to ask how long Kate planned on being in Boston, but Kate had decided to round out her list of compliments by leaning forward and giving Jane a soft kiss. Jane responded instinctively, putting her arms around Kate's waist and turning their positions slightly so that Kate's back hovered only inches off of the bed, as if being held in a dip. Continuing to kiss her, Jane lightly guided Kate to lie all the way down, and she did not resist, resting her hands on Jane's hips to pull her closer.

"Tell me what you want," Jane whispered, her voice raspy and low directly into Kate's ear.

"I d—ahh," Kate breathed, struggling to maintain focus as Jane kissed a spot behind her ear. Blindly she hiked up her skirt and shifted so that one of Jane' legs was nestled between her own. Thrusting against it, she reached up to cradle Jane's face and whisper, "Just don't stop kissing me."

Jane complied, teasing Kate's mouth open with her tongue and nearly collapsing onto her with the thrill of that contact. Kate's hand wandered down to massage one of Jane's biceps, marveling at how hard and muscular her arm felt. There was something so sexy about this particularly unfeminine quality, pairing it with Jane's sweetness and gentleness that just made Kate all the more desperate to keep her close. Her hand returned upwards, fingers twisting in Jane's dark curls. And the sounds Jane was making in that deep, husky voice of hers—_Lord, that's perfect_.

Not too much later, Kate managed to roll over so that Jane was the one on her back, and she moved to kiss the detective's neck. Jane wasn't sure she breathed for the next minute or so. This move had really taken her aback: she was accustomed to being the aggressive one in the bedroom, dictating the action. She was never hurtful or domineering; she just liked being in control. It made her feel safe. But being like this made her feel wanted in a whole different, delicious way. She almost laughed when she felt Kate un-tucking the hem of her shirt, stroking the bare skin of her abs. Now that Kate had seen them, it was difficult not to want to look at and feel them constantly.

She was, it seemed, a beautiful contradiction: soft and feminine in her appearance, but aggressive in a very appealing, un-lady-like manner in private.

This was faster than Jane was expecting, but if Kate was ready to go there, she wasn't about to complain. And to Kate's shock, she might have let herself—had this not, at the end of the day, been about work. A job to do. Whether or not Kate could miraculously make it out of all this without having to tell Jane the ugly truth, sex was only going to complicate things. This really only hit home for her when she felt Jane's hand resting above her hip, under her shirt. Just that small touch on her bare skin felt explosive, bursting with promise, and Kate couldn't bring herself to cave. Having this be strictly about business had fallen to the wayside some time ago, but that didn't mean it was time to entirely bring pleasure into the mix without thinking of the consequences.

Jane noticed Kate's movements had become less frenzied, that they were slowing and becoming a little more purposeful. With one last, long kiss, Kate pulled away, trying not to appear too sorrowful as she looked down. Jane blinked hard and opened her eyes, feeling a little disoriented.

"Whoa," she whispered.

"Yeah," Kate chuckled back. "See what you've done to the goody-goody?"

"Goody-goody my butt," Jane snickered. "I saw that picture you advertised on your profile. Wet t-shirt contest winner?"

"Oh, geez," Kate laughed, rolling her eyes and sitting up. "One of my friends put that on there without my permission."

"Still happened, though," Jane said with a smirk, also sitting up. She bit her lip, placing her hand delicately on Kate's waist. "You okay?"

"Once I get the oxygen back to my lungs, I should be," Kate answered, nodding. "Jane, I just don't want to, uh, go too fast, here."

"I understand," Jane said, and she did. "I can wait, don't worry." She smirked again, offering Kate a chaste kiss. "Good thing you're totally boss at making out, though."

Kate went on to school her for another minute or so before Jane's phone went off, not-so-tenderly disturbing the moment. She felt inclined to ignore it, but in her line of work, doing such could lead to a potentially fatal mistake, and gratefully Kate understood that.

It was a text from Maura: _Get over here RIGHT NOW. _That was slightly disconcerting: Maura rarely, if ever, used all-capital letters in her text messages, believing it to be unnecessary embellishment used by people who were not intelligent enough to put together a more articulate summation of what they were trying to get across.

"Something wrong?" Kate asked, noting the concern in Jane's expression.

"Uh…no, I don't think so," Jane said, closing her phone. "That was Maura. I can't remember if I told you this or not, but she's been letting my Ma stay in her guest house recently. Or… wow, actually I guess it's been over a year now. My parents got divorced and Ma couldn't afford to keep the house, so Maura gave her a place to stay."

"Wow, that's very generous."

"Yeah… anyway…" Another text: _You know I love your mother but conversations are happening which I believe you should be present for. _Oh, boy. "Every Sunday, Ma likes to have a little dinner party at Maura's house with me and my brothers, and a few friends. And it looks like I need to be there as a buffer during preparation, or something? I dunno. Anyway, uh…" It occurred to her that it might be rude to have mentioned this and then not invite Kate. "I don't suppose you'd want to, um…?"

Understanding the hesitancy in Jane's tone, Kate honestly replied, "I don't quite think I'm up for that stage, yet. I've never been very good at meeting the parents, and this is all sort of extra—"

"Sensitive, yeah," Jane said, privately relieved. Maybe someday it'd be nice for Kate and her mother to meet, but for now, Jane didn't want to subject her to what would likely be a tactless line of very personal questions. That sort of came with the territory of Angela, and Jane didn't think it should be sprung on someone who'd never even met the woman before.

Jane left a few minutes later with a promise to call after dinner. Kate had hardly been alone for sixty seconds when a harried knock sounded on her door. Looking through the peephole, she sighed in disappointment to see Tony and McGee standing outside.

"What?" she asked, opening the door.

"Well _that _wasn't very friendly for somebody who just got lucky!" Tony said, strolling inside after he'd picked up the 'do not disturb' tag Kate had hung on her doorknob.

"Nothing happened, Tony."

"No?"

"Nothing that's your business, anyway. What do you want?"

"Some intel on one Jane Clementine Rizzoli."

Kate wrinkled her nose. "Clementine?"

"Yeah. Her brother told me."

"That's unfortunate."

"Agreed. Anyway, Probie and I scored an invite with the boss to Sunday dinner at Dr. Maura Isles' house, and word has it that your darling Clementine will be present. Sadly, you will not be. We want to be briefed in full about everything you've unearthed about Rizzoli."

"I'll talk to Gibbs. I'm not going to indulge you in your fantasies, Tony."

"Oh-ho! Don't flatter yourself, Kate. Your reality couldn't possibly come even close to touching how freaky my fantasies are. Even the ones that may or may not involve women who look exactly like you."

Kate's response to this was to elbow Tony hard in the gut. As he doubled over, she turned to McGee expectantly. He happily raised his hands in defeat, saying, "I didn't come in here to harass you. I came to see you take the tar out of your pervy partner, here. You really should've seen that one coming, Tony."

"Yes," Kate agreed. "You really should have."

Tony's foresight or lack thereof was matched only by Jane's, who felt totally blindsided when she knocked on Maura's door and was yanked inside seconds later. A tic was going in Maura's temple and it looked as though she was only just starting to overcome a rash on her neck. "Maura…?"

"Your mother knows," Maura said. "About your _dating preferences?_"

"I just told her today! Literally today!"

"We started making dinner and she asked me if I knew if you were seeing anyone, and I nearly passed out trying to keep your secret for you, only to have her tell me she knew you were into women!"

"She told you that?! What if you hadn't known?! What if I hadn't told you?"

"Jane, she could tell I knew. It's just that now she's been asking me all these questions—"

Jane stormed past Maura and into the kitchen, where her mother was cutting up a pineapple. "Ma, leave Maura alone."

"Oh Janie, you're here! I couldn't help feeling like our conversation was far too short this afternoon. I have so many unanswered questions."

"Not now, Ma."

"But Jane! I'm your mother, I deserve to know some things!"

"I like women! What else is there to know?"

"Why it happened! Was it something I did, or something I said? I'm not telling you to go back and date guys again, I just want to know what caused it." She lowered her voice, looking pained. "Is it because of what you overheard Aunt Teresa saying about blowjobs when you were twelve?"

Jane screwed her eyes shut and winced. "No!"

"And how exactly does it work between two women, anyway?"

"Oh my g—Ma, _no._"

"I mean there's no, _y'know_, involved, how do you—?"

"Ma. Stop."

Angela gasped softly. "Am I getting ahead of you, here? Have you even tried yet?"

"_Ma. _I am not having this conversation now, and I am not having it ever. There's nothing you or Pop or Aunt Teresa said or did to 'make' me gay. I just am. I'm your daughter, I'm a cop, I'm a sister, and I'm gay. I like the Red Sox and I hate quinoa. That's it. Okay? Don't try and investigate it! And if you think I'm going to give you a play-by-play about how sex between two women works, all I can say is that you've seriously overestimated what I'm willing to share with you."

Looking a little miffed, Angela nobly lifted her head and said, "Well, I'm sorry. I thought that by coming out to me today you'd maybe started feeling like you could confide in me a little bit more."

"Yeah, confide. Not kiss and tell."

A short stare-off commenced, broken only when Maura's oven timer went off and she anxiously stepped between the two Rizzoli women, trying to distract them with the lasagna that now had to be tested and sliced. Distraction arrived in a much more legitimate form when the doorbell rang, and Angela exclaimed that it must be their guests from NCIS. Maura graciously went to answer the door, smiling at Gibbs, McGee, and Tony as they each entered the house.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Boston, Patrick Doyle was attempting to attend to a fresh bullet wound. Normally he could take care of these himself, but this one was giving him more trouble than usual. Considering he had other things he'd like to talk to her about, Doyle thought this might be an opportune time to drop in on his daughter. Get medical attention and give her a hot tip.

"Reilly," he grunted to his second-in-command. "What've you found out about the chick hanging around Detective Rizzoli?"

"Uh, which one?" Reilly asked.

Doyle smacked the back of his head. "Which one? The one who looks like she could be my daughter's twin, you moron. What'd you find out?"

"Kate Todd, NCIS."


	11. Secrets and Lies

**a/n**: So yeah, my takes on Doyle usually tend to make him sloppy, but I don't care. He's a means to an end. I'd apologize but I feel like I haven't gotten as bad or lazy as JTam yet, so yeah.

* * *

As dinner progressed, Jane wasn't sure what she was dreading more: the possibility of her mother asking more questions about lesbianism in front of near-strangers, the possibility of her mother trying to ask out Special Agent Gibbs (who was clearly not indulging her in flirting back), and what she personally might do if Agent DiNozzo didn't stop looking at Maura like he wanted to eat her alive. Not that she could totally blame him. If she was honest with herself, she was sure she'd looked at Maura like this once or twice in the past. Whether the woman was wearing makeup or not or was in a designer dress or sweats, she was always a knock-out. Tonight she'd gone for what she called the "smart-casual" look, wearing slacks and a draped top that had probably cost … well, as much as the suit DiNozzo was wearing.

"So Dr. Isles, I'm curious about something," he said, grinning at her from across the table. "You don't happen to be related to that woman I keep running into at BPD, are you? That uh—what was her name, Detective Rizzoli? Kate?"

"Kate Todd."

"Right! Kate Todd. You and she look an awful lot alike. Or is it just me?"

"No, I daresay it isn't just you," Maura sighed.

"Lookalikes are everywhere," Angela laughed. She nodded at Gibbs, who was sitting opposite her at the head of the table. "Someday, Agent Gibbs, you and me will have to sit down and watch a few seasons of _St. Elsewhere_—I promise you'll see the resemblance I've been telling you about! You must have been an actor before you became an agent!"

"_St. Elsewhere_?" Tony asked, furrowing his brow. "That the one where the whole show was dreamed up by an autistic kid with a snowglobe?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but I feel as though I ought to be offended by it," Maura said.

"Tony's actually not exaggerating," McGee told her. "That was really some television's executive idea of a brilliant twist ending for a show."

"Better than _Roseanne_'s," Tony reasoned. "I mean, really? Jackie was a lesbian? Who'd buy that?"

"Jackie was a lesbian?" Angela gasped. "Jane! Did you know that?"

"Ma, I never even watched that show. Why would I know that?"

"I can't believe Jackie was a lesbian!"

"Yeah," Tony said. "Oh, and Becky was actually with David, Darlene was with Mark, and Dan died from a heart attack. And they didn't win the lottery."

"Oh, my. I guess I never did get around to seeing the finale!"

"Yup, well, you didn't miss much."

"That _is _kinda weird that you never finished out the show, though, Ma," Jane said. She explained to the others, "Ma's the kind of person who usually has to see out anything to the end, no matter how bad she thinks it is, just because you get so invested, I guess. It bothers you not knowing. Although now that I think about it, I feel like I remember you complaining about how stupid it was for the Conners to win the lottery and you felt like you couldn't—"

"I couldn't relate to it anymore. Not that I feel the need to relate to everything I watch—or read," Angela said. "But Janie's right, I have a hard time breaking viewing habits, sometimes for the worse. But sometimes for the better! Have any of you read the _Deep Six _series?"

"Oh geez," Jane groaned. "Ma, these are trained professionals. They don't need to read stuff like that."

"Don't say 'stuff' in that tone!" Angela chided her. "Maura's read them, and she said they're good!"

Jane turned a disbelieving eye towards Maura, who took her time chewing her current bite to stall for time. "They're actually very technically accurate," she finally said. "Which I must say, adds an interesting and refreshing change from most crime novels."

McGee beamed at her. "You think so?"

Maura nodded uncertainly, but Angela launched full-on into an obsessed rant: "Do you read them, Agent McGee? I could devour them by the _dozen_; Mr. Gemcity doesn't get them out quickly enough for my taste! Although I have to say, if that man has a day job, he must devote the rest of his time to putting out those books. He's very—what's the word? Prolific!" She leaned closer to McGee, lowering her voice an unnecessarily conspiring tone: "What do you think's going to become of Tommy and Kay's relationship since Tommy cheated on her in the last book? Personally, I think infidelity on any level is absolutely unforgivable, but Tommy's such a charmer—he might be able to sway her back to his side! And you know…" She straightened up again, looking back over at Gibbs. "Given Mr. Gemcity's descriptions, Agent Gibbs, you look almost exactly like how I pictured L.J. Tibbs!"

Gibbs nodded slowly and put down his water glass. "You don't say," he muttered, staring at McGee.

When she'd said Tibbs' name, realization seemed to have dawned on Angela and Maura. Jane, who was not familiar with the books, still came around when she remembered Gibbs' initials were also L.J. Everyone was now staring at McGee.

"Yup," Tony finally said. He pointed at his boss, then himself. "Special Agent Tibbs, Tommy DiNardo, and this boy here…" He slapped McGee hard on the back, nearly causing him to choke on his own water. "Agent MacGregor, and none other than Mr. Thom E. Gemcity himself."

Angela gasped loudly, Maura looked impressed, and Jane all but shoved her face in her hands. Unlike most people, who would probably go vasovagal if they realized they were having dinner with one of their favorite writers, Angela was entirely unembarrassed and spent the next half an hour completely ignoring everyone else at the table as she bombarded McGee with question after _Deep Six _question. In an effort to be polite and connect with each of her guests, Maura occasionally engaged in the dialogue. Every time she did, Jane would lend an ear to the conversation, noting that McGee brightened noticeably when he had the chance to talk with her. Obviously he was pleased enough to have met a fan as enthusiastic as Angela (though Tony would later tease him about his target audience), but it was also a bit of a thrill to have a woman as beautiful as Maura Isles seem interested in talking about his work as well.

"I have to say, I was quite impressed by the twist at the end of the second book," Maura said. "I really wasn't expecting that, and your ability to keep the forensics accurate but accessible to laymen was very impressive!"

(Jane barely avoided rolling her eyes at that one. She'd had to go through the final chapter of that book sentence by sentence with her mother to explain all the technical stuff, most of which she understood only because of things she'd heard Maura repeat constantly at work.)

"Thank you!" McGee said. "I graduated from MIT, so—"

"So he's kind of the McGeek of the McGroup," said Tony, again clapping him on the back.

"I'm the geek of our group, too," Maura said, smilingly offering McGee some solidarity.

"And your contribution to the team should never be undervalued," Angela said seriously. "How many times has Amy Sutton come to the rescue in _Deep Six_?"

"Amy Sutton," Maura murmured. "Oh! Is that your forensic specialist I've been sending information to? Ms. Sciuto?"

"One and the same," said Tony.

"Okay, so hold on," Jane said. "Everyone in your books is based on somebody you work with?" McGee nodded. "And 'Tommy' has a romance with another agent, according to my mother. So there's a woman on your team?"

McGee's eyes flitted briefly towards Gibbs. "Uh, yes. Yes there is."

Jane nodded at Tony. "You two shacking up in real life?"

Angela hissed at her. "_Jane! _Could you possibly be any cruder in front of our guests?"

_Could DiNozzo's smug puss be any cruder every time he looks at Maura? _"Why yes, I could. Hey Tony, are you and—"

"I think that's enough," Angela said loudly.

Before any other intrusive questions about Kate could be asked, Gibbs said, "Don't worry, Detective Rizzoli. I make it a policy not to allow anyone in my team to pull stunts like that. The material may sell books, but it doesn't work that way in real life. Working relationships are difficult enough without throwing romance into the mix. All it takes is one Yoko/Lennon to destroy a great team."

"I don't know how she's been able to resist me all these years," Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Easy," snorted Gibbs. "She knows you, DiNozzo."

Tony frowned at his boss. "Well, then. Probably a good thing she chose to use her accrued vacation time instead of coming with us on this trip. Last thing I needed was another argument about who left the toilet seat down that would've felt like it came right out of a '90s sitcom."

"A toilet seat that came out of a '90s sitcom?" Maura asked confusedly.

"He meant the argument about it, Maura," Jane said. "Did you really go through all of the '90s without ever being subjected to an episode of _Mad About You_?"

"Aww, Helen Hunt!" Tony laughed. "What a babe."

"Thought it was Holly Hunter," said McGee.

"No, pretty sure it was Hunt. Trust me, Probie." He smirked and tapped his forehead, grinning at Maura. "I've got a memory for these things."

"Attractive women?" Maura pressed him. He shrugged and grinned. "That doesn't surprise me. The average man has sex on his mind approximately every seven seconds."

"Well you can ask any woman I've been with," Tony said with a wink. "I'm greater than the average man." He glanced over when Gibbs cleared his throat significantly, nodding in Angela's direction. "Uh… sorry, Mrs. Rizzoli."

Angela just laughed and waved her hand. "Don't worry, Agent DiNozzo! There's nothing wrong with being proud of your virility."

"Uh, this _dinner _conversation is going to an uncomfortable place," Jane said pointedly, scowling at her mother's double standards. God forbid _she_ make any kind of insinuation, but a man was allowed to be as crude as he wanted because, ha ha, boys would be boys. "Agent McGee, why don't we return to a bor—I mean, safe subject like your writing?"

"You should really consider hiring a new copy editor," Maura said, looking pained to have to bring it up. "There were several grammatical errors in the most recent book."

McGee blushed and decided to mention that he edited the books himself, mostly out of self-consciousness. Working full-time as a federal agent didn't give him quite enough time to go over them as closely as he should, apparently. "Oh. Well, I will definitely take that into consideration, Dr. Isles, thank you."

Maura smiled with the relief that he wasn't insulted. "You're welcome! That's refreshing, you know, an author who's open to criticism."

"Well, McGee's used to it at this point, I think," said Tony. "Between his love life and his work life, am I right, Probie?"

"Cool it, Tony, or Dr. Isles won't know you're joking," McGee said coldly. This dinner might be worth the humiliation if he could somehow manage to win Maura over right under Tony's nose. Even as a trained investigator, it was difficult to tell if she was genuinely charmed by Tony's overconfident caveman approach, or if she was merely placating him out of politeness. "Maura, if you ever find yourself with a little extra time and wanting something intellectually stimulating to do, maybe I could call you up for some help with my next book."

Maura laughed, not unkindly. "I would be flattered, Agent McGee."

A few minutes later, Maura got up to get the dessert from the kitchen, and under pretense of helping her, Jane followed. As Maura began shaving some chocolate to put on top of the cake Angela had made, Jane stood closer than was necessary and whispered, "You're not gonna get all hung up on DiNozzo, are you?"

Considering the table was safely out of earshot, Maura smiled and said, "Even if he doesn't suit your taste, Jane, you have to admit the man is attractive. 'Hunk' is the word I believe your mother used."

"He's a creep," Jane muttered. "Just 'cause he's got a handsome face doesn't change his personality. Never thought you'd go for a chauvinist, Maura."

"A chauvinist believes one sex is superior to the other," Maura said. "I've yet to get that impression from Tony. If anything," she said, almost leering as she spread the shaved chocolate on top of the cake, "he believes sex in general is superior to anything."

"And that's attractive to you?" Jane asked disbelievingly. "Don't you remember the Giovanni thing, and how well _pure animal magnetism _worked for you last time?"

"Tony is an NCIS agent. He must have intelligence to match that well-trained body of his."

Jane groaned as Maura started to shave more chocolate. "Maura, c'mon. Please just don't sleep with him."

"What is with your aversion to every man I show interest in dating?" Maura asked abruptly. The question caught Jane entirely off guard, and she fidgeted a bit as she tried to think of a time when that hadn't been the case. Speaking with an innocent tone of voice, Maura said, "I can't possibly interpret this as jealousy?"

"_Jealousy_?" Jane hissed. "You really are full of it, Maura, you know that? Look, if you've gotta go for an agent—well, Ma's already pretty much called dibs on Gibbs, but you could take McGee!"

"I could? Oh, well that's very sweet of you," Maura said sarcastically.

"C'mon, he's cute in a geeky way! And he's smart, and he's a writer…!"

"So you didn't find him cocky about his novel?" Maura asked.

"What the—are you kidding? No way! Even _if _he was cocky at all, at least he got it through some hard-developed talent, not from his own c—"

"Jane, what's keeping you two?" Angela called over.

"We'll be there in a moment, Angela!" Maura replied. She went to the fridge to get some raspberries as the final touch for the cake, addressing Jane in a whisper. "Jane, I think there's a difference between trying to look out for your friends and giving judgmental advice when it isn't warranted. Sometimes, sex is just sex. If I want to have it with Tony, I will. If I want to have it with McGee, I will. If I want to have it with both of them at the same time, I will!"

Jane's eyebrows rose at that one. "You're into that?" she asked a little incredulously.

"If the proper parties were involved, potentially, yes," Maura replied. She noticed Jane's eyes dart back the table, and if looks could kill, Tony and McGee would probably be dead. "Jane. _Jane!_"

"What?" Jane asked, snapping her gaze back to Maura.

"If you're not jealous, then you're being condescendingly overprotective."

And now there was that look again, the type of look that seemed capable of sending someone to the morgue. "Y'know what, Maura, you'd better stick to psycho-analyzing _dead_ people."

She moved to back to the table, but Maura blocked her path. She didn't need to say anything to express how much that comment had hurt; Jane knew it, and was already sorry for it, ashamed to even acknowledge she'd made it. Instead of asking for an apology, Maura said, "I just would appreciate it if you would tell me one thing."

"Fine. What?"

"True or false: the woman you are currently dating has more than a passing resemblance to me." _And all that implies. _

Jane stared down at her, exhaling loudly. After a long pause, she muttered "true" and brushed past Maura.

* * *

For all the beauty of its presentation, dessert passed relatively quickly. Gibbs explained that they needed to resume work on their case (which Kate was handling solo, at the moment), and Jane said she herself had some files that needed going over. While this was partly true, she also wanted an excuse to leave when the feds did: not to avoid helping with clean-up, but to avoid any lingering awkwardness with Maura. Angela wound up leaving shortly after everyone else, admitting to Maura that she had made arrangements to get coffee with Lieutenant Cavanaugh that night ("Please don't tell Jane. I don't think she could handle it, especially coupled with the fact that I couldn't help flirting a little bit with Agent Gibbs. But those eyes!"). Maura didn't mind cleaning up by herself; in fact, she quite liked having the odd menial task to do alone. It gave her a non-stressful time to lose herself, metaphorically, in her own thoughts.

As was often the case recently, her thoughts drifted to Jane.

Washing dishes at the sink, it took her a moment to realize someone was knocking at her door. Curiously she went to open it, smiling when Tony was revealed to be the one standing there, holding a bottle of wine.

"You're back!" she said, pleasantly surprised as she opened the door a little wider to let him in.

"Yup. The boss sent me to check out a flower shop that used to be the favorite haunt of our dead petty officer, and I couldn't help noticing a gorgeous little wine shop right next door." Proceeding to the dining room, he continued, "Even with just our short time spent together, doctor, I could tell you're a lady of taste. Class. My co-workers, esteemed as they are, wouldn't appreciate a vintage quite as nice as this one, I don't believe."

"A 1994 _Chateau de Gard_, wow. You do have taste, Tony, I'll give you that."

"Thank you, doc."

"I'm afraid I've reached my alcoholic limit for the night, but I'll be eager to try this soon," she said. "And it would be rude to indulge in it without you. Do you foresee a—"

A gruff voice interrupted them: "Hands in the air."

Maura jumped and Tony turned around: Patrick Doyle and two of his cronies had come in through the backdoor Angela had left unlocked. Doyle was clearly in pain, but he held a gun up all the same, and his men had theirs aimed at Tony's head.

"You a cop?" Doyle asked Tony.

"NCIS."

"N see what?" muttered one of Doyle's men.

"Navy cop," Doyle grunted.

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service, to be exact," Tony offered. "If you like, I'd be happy to show you my badge."

"Hands in the air, pretty boy," Doyle snarled. He nodded, and one of his men stepped forward, patting Tony down and taking his gun and cell phone. "So you're NCIS, huh? Happen to know an Agent Kate Todd?"

Maura stared incredulously at Doyle, then turned her eyes to Tony. He kept his gaze on the mobster, internally freaking out. In the end, Maura wound up answering for him: "Yes, I believe they've met," she said coolly.

Doyle nodded for her to come over. "Maura. C'mere; need you to fix this up." One of his men started tying Tony to a chair while the other kept a gun trained carefully at his head. Glaring all the way, Maura led Doyle over to the couch. "Atta girl," he said gruffly, shrugging off his jacket. "Shouldn't be too hard for you. I've had these before; just needs a couple of stitches."

Frowning, Maura performed a brief examination which ended with the conclusion, "It's not as simple as that. You should be on an IV."

"Can't do that."

"The bullet hit your clavicle. This isn't a mere flesh wound, Doyle."

Tony started to chuckle, cuing everyone to look at him with no small degree of incredulity. Looking to each face, he laughed, "C'mon, nobody else? The Black Night? Monty Python? 'It's just a flesh wound!' Ha, ha…" He cleared his throat when no one joined him in the mirth. "Well. Guess you Irish boys wouldn't find a Brit show very funny."

"Who's this clown, your boyfriend?" Doyle asked.

There was a definite bite to Maura's tone as she started to suture Doyle's wound. "I don't think you've any right to ask me personal questions, Doyle. But so long as questions are being asked, here's one for you: how do you know Kate Todd?"

"I've been keeping tabs on that detective of yours," Doyle said. "Real career gal, huh? Thought you might've warmed up to me a bit after the stint I did in jail on account of her. You were pretty pissed at her for a while, I thought. Because of what she did to me."

"I was pissed because I was afraid she'd killed you when you were only trying to protect me," Maura said. "I didn't ask for that protection, Doyle. Jane is all I need in that regard. And you haven't finished your stint in jail, you broke out."

"You've got no affection left for me at all, have you, Maura?"

"I want to know who my mother is," Maura said gravely. When Doyle's only response to this was stony-eyed silence, Maura looked over at Tony. "Agent DiNozzo, you must have thought you were being very funny when you asked if Kate—if your _co-worker _and I were related. Well honestly, I have no idea if we are or not. I became an Isles through a closed adoption. I only barely learned who my mother is, and we're not speaking." Her phone started ringing just then, lying on the coffee table. By instinct, she reached for it. "It's Jane."

"Leave it," Doyle insisted. "I made the trouble of coming to see you, you finish the job."

With his hands tied behind the chair he was sitting in, Tony crossed his legs and asked, "Doyle, while I have you here, I got a question for ya. Hear about the murder of a Petty Officer Barnes, down at the docks you control?"

"I was set up," Doyle snarled. "I don't kill women."

"Ah! Okay, I see. So how'd you get this wound, here? …not gonna play, huh? All right, I can guess." One of Doyle's henchmen cocked his gun. "Or I can shut up. Also an option."

Doyle rolled his eyes. "Give me a shot against your dyke detective any day, Maura," he said, noting the flash in her eyes at the pejorative term. "I can't stand jokers."

"That's because you haven't heard Luke Skywalker voice him," Tony said.

The henchman looked ready to hit Tony's head with the butt of his gun, but Doyle held up a hand to stop him. There was a long pause, and he said, "Batman. The Animated Series."

Tony looked genuinely impressed. "Well! I am genuinely impressed!"

"I used to have a son. Found me when he was a teenager. He had a… he had a fixation with that show." Doyle nodded to himself, smirking, then frowned at Maura. "Colin knew too much. That's why he got killed. That's why you and your mother can't ever know each other. I want you safe."

"So I can stitch up your battle scars?" Maura asked coldly.

He smirked at her. "Don't be a child."

"Stop tailing Jane," she said, a bit out of nowhere. "She's already been investigated once about being on your payroll. She doesn't need more people questioning her connection to you."

"Relax, Maura. Kate Todd looked a lot like you to me. One of my boys saw her on… I guess on a date with your detective. Snapped a picture, low quality. I thought it was you, so I had her followed. If I found out she was sleeping with you…"

"I think we've already established who's the faster shot between the two of you," Maura said.

Doyle's jaw tightened. "If I want that cop dead, Maura, she'll be dead. She's had her chance to arrest me more than once, and scraped by the time I let my guard down _for you_."

"Is that supposed to warm my heart? Because it doesn't."

The next few moments unfolded very fast. There was a loud banging on the front door, which everyone immediately turned to look at. One of Doyle's henchmen had the chance to utter, "Boss?" before the door burst open, its jamb split into countless splinters courtesy of Jane Rizzoli. She was followed into the house by Frost and Gibbs, and shots were fired immediately. Frost almost took one to the shoulder before one of Doyle's men was killed by Gibbs' bullet, and the other put his hands up in anxious defeat.

"Nice timing there, boss," Tony squeaked.

Jane strode fully into the living room, gun still held aloft. "Don't move, dirtbag," she growled at Doyle.

"Detective. We meet again."

"If we never met again, it'd be too soon for me," Jane said darkly.

"William O'Malley," Gibbs said, also settling his gun in Doyle's direction. "Former friend of yours. Tried to frame you for the murder of a petty officer. A woman. Pissed you off, didn't it, Doyle?"

"Your evidence is circumstantial."

"Yeah?" Jane asked. "How about that bullet in your shoulder, and the blood we found at the crime scene?" She glanced at the coffee table and saw Maura's cell. She stepped closer to Doyle, nearly whispering. "Don't want to call attention to your presence? Maybe let your daughter answer her damn phone."

Though nobody had freed him the chair yet, Tony was noticeably relaxed. Crossing his legs again, he tried once more for a Pythonesque accent: "O-ho! Thought you were invincible, eh? You're a loony!"


	12. In the Air

**A/N**: I just want to say it's a relief to remember not every story needs to be 50 chapters. Also I apologize for where this one ended...

* * *

Frost escorted Doyle away in handcuffs, telling him it might've been advisable not to have skipped out of jail in the first place. Maura watched him go, betraying no emotion when Doyle caught her eye, trying for one last bit of tacit communication. She sighed loudly, leaning back on the couch in resignation. Gibbs went over to free his agent, and Jane sat down to comfort her friend.

"You gonna be okay?" she asked quietly, rubbing consoling circles on Maura's back. It took a while for her to know how to answer.

As Gibbs went over to (finally) untie his agent, Maura turned to look at Jane. Both of them held expressions of utmost solemnity, and for a moment, weren't sure how to begin talking. At least this time Jane hadn't put a bullet in Paddy, but she certainly looked as if she'd have liked to. He'd broken out of prison and made the mistake of visiting his daughter; in addition to apparently killing an old friend, that was more than enough justifiable reason to throw him back in jail. Jane was rubbing slow circles on Maura's back, just as much trying to keep herself grounded as she was trying to comfort her friend. With bated breath she kept her eyes on Maura's, waiting for Maura to just speak whatever was on her mind.

_Just get it out now, I can take it._

"You broke my door," Maura finally said, her tone very matter-of-fact. When Jane didn't reply to this, she repeated it, slower.

"Yeah," Jane said, nodding. "I did."

"So it _was _you. Not Frost."

"Why would—?"

"Sergeant Korsak informed me that as a mild form of hazing, the two of you frequently make Frost, the 'greenie,' do dirty work like breaking down doors."

"This was personal," Jane said quietly.

"I didn't hear a gunshot. How did you get it open?"

"My foot." Jane smiled a little when Maura's eyes widened, and she gestured down to her boots. "Standard issue. Gets the job done when your friend is in trouble. Hey, c'mon," she chuckled. Maura's mouth had fallen open slightly. "We get trained pretty rigorously in the academy, Maura."

"I just never thought …that door is thick, Jane."

"Jamb was pretty weak. I'll pay to fix it, don't worry."

Though her countenance seemed to say otherwise, Maura wasn't exactly worried—not about the door, anyway. The thought of Jane kicking down her door and coming in for a white knight rescue was unexpectedly, well, arousing. Maura didn't consider herself a damsel in distress and she had certainly never entertained fantasies—even as a young girl—about being rescued. (She had, for a brief time, wondered what it might be like to be kidnapped by pirates after she read _Treasure Island _at ten years old, but that was the closest she'd ever come.)

"How did you know to come for me?" she asked.

"We had a new crime scene," Jane answered. "Gibbs was on hand 'cause one of these kids in for Fleet Week was the one who reported it, the dead body, and I told Gibbs he better come along just in case. We got there and you didn't show up. Korsak said the guy was Will O'Malley, and that's… well, you know, one of Doyle's old gang." She brushed at her jaw, as if physically attempting to keep a stiff chin. "And then Pike showed up. I asked him why he'd been sent, and he said you were unreachable. I just …I didn't know _what _to imagine, but all I could think was that you might be in danger. So Korsak kept McGee at the scene and let me take Gibbs and Frost, and here we are."

Maura didn't get a chance to respond. Gibbs had just come back over and said, "Rizzoli, feel free to go get a statement from DiNozzo."

"Well, I do like to be thorough," Jane muttered, getting up and walking over to Tony. He asked for a glass of water, and Jane rolled her eyes and pulled him over into the kitchen.

As the others went safely out of earshot, Gibbs sat himself on the coffee table across from Maura, who was eying him with annoyance. "I take it you're not too pleased with me at the moment, Dr. Isles," he said casually.

"I'd just like a word with your Agent Todd."

"No way."

"Why not?"

"The last time I saw that expression on a woman, my third wife went out and keyed my car. Then she came back in the house and chucked a hood ornament at my head. Neither of us even _had _cars with hood ornaments." Maura wasn't sure if Gibbs was trying to be funny or not, and she resolved not to be amused, folding her arms and glaring at him. "Doc, you're a professional."

"Are you? Kate never mentioned anything about NCIS, and she acted as though you and Agents DiNozzo and McGee were strangers to her. Clearly you were trying to use her to get something."

"You know Doyle was a suspect in this case, in Petty Officer Barnes' case." Maura nodded stiffly. "Doyle had recently escaped prison after being put there by your friend. We did a little digging, and well, it seemed as though he'd had a lot of close calls with Detective Rizzoli. He always managed to get away, except that last time. Maybe to sell Rizzoli's innocence. Seems there were a lot of times he was in town and she turned a blind eye."

"You thought she was dirty," Maura sighed.

"Yes."

"You realize she'd already been investigated for just that?"

"Never hurts to be thorough. I don't mean any offense, Dr. Isles, but I can't tell you how many times my team has been set back in an investigation because some local leo's didn't actually do their own homework. I wanted to nip it in the bud this time if I could."

"So you put Agent Todd undercover as a lesbian."

"I talked to Tony. He said Doyle blew her cover to you. I told him under no circumstances was he to say anything about it to Detective Rizzoli."

"Why not?" Maura asked angrily. "Doyle's caught! Isn't the charade over now?"

Understanding her anger, Gibbs patiently said, "I acknowledge that I have no authority over you, Doc, but I know Kate would want to be the one to talk about this with Rizzoli. You might think I'm a bastard for having her do this, but Kate's felt uncomfortable with it all along. She thinks very highly of Jane, doctor. Hated lying to her. I think Kate would really appreciate the chance to explain all this. I know you don't owe her anything, but there was never any malicious intent there on Kate's part."

"Your case is solved. When are you going back to D.C.?"

"Tomorrow. Kate's got some vacation time coming to her, though. Talking this out with Rizzoli might not be much of a fun vacation, but if she wants to spend her time in Boston…"

A few moments later, Maura agreed not to tell Jane. Gibbs and Tony left without being aware of Maura's chronic inability to lie, which she only half-hoped would keep her from spilling the proverbial beans about Kate Todd. Her kneejerk response to finding out had been a desire to tell Jane immediately, to discredit Agent Todd, but she realized that was stooping to pretty low jealousy. She may have known the manner of the mission, but she had to admit she had no idea of the details—what Kate really felt about Jane.

And besides that, this was a very delicate issue. Kate was the woman who had inexplicably made Jane comfortable with dating a woman in public. Being with her, seeing her own potential for true happiness, had given Jane the final push to come out to her mother. To stop living a lie. All of that from a woman who had been lying to her.

It wasn't the responsibility of telling her that made Maura nervous, it was just the notion that maybe it wasn't her place to say it at all.

There was also, though, the possibility that Jane would find out Maura knew and hadn't said anything. The thought of Jane's reaction to this, how betrayed she would feel, sent a shiver down Maura's spine. _Really, who are you loyal to? Kate, or Jane? You should tell her! Even if you haven't got all the details, you… _Or maybe not.

Maura decided that if Kate hadn't said anything by the next day, she would. She couldn't just sit around forever with this knowledge pent up inside her; it wasn't fair to Jane.

Jane had come back over to the couch, sitting next to Maura, who had since pulled a blanket up over her lap. "Well… thanks for coming over, Jane."

"My pleasure," Jane chuckled, taking her gun from its holster and laying it on the end table. "Just another day in the office, right?" She untied and removed her boots, then stretched and rested her feet on the coffee table, clasping her hands behind her head. "So anything good on TV these days?"

"That's all?" Maura asked.

"Hm?"

"Don't you have anyone you might want to call and tell about what just happened?"

"I'm sure Lieutenant Cavanaugh got the same call we did, and since he's with Ma, he'll have told her about it. Although you're right, she probably won't know that Doyle was in your h—"

"I meant Kate!"

Jane looked a little surprised. "Oh."

"You weren't going to tell her?"

"Tell her what? She knows I'm a cop, that I'm bound to get into scrapes. Besides, we've only been on like, a few dates! I don't think we've reached a point where she needs to know the details every time something like this happens, right? …or do you think I should tell her?"

Maura looked down at her hands. "I don't know. You should do what feels comfortable for you. I just thought—"

"Thought what?"

"I thought maybe you'd like to be with her after all this," Maura sighed. "Relax, get a little pampered." She waved in the general direction of the front of her house. "Everything here is a mess, and it'll remind you of work. Being with Kate could be a nice change."

"Hey." Jane rested her hand on Maura's leg, getting her to finally make eye contact. "You're here, Maura. And you don't remind me of work. I mean yeah, we _work _together, but that doesn't mean it feels like work to be around you. Honey, I can't in good conscience skip out of here to go be with my—to go… I dunno, on a date, and leave you alone here."

"It would be fine, you know," Maura sniffed. "I'm used to being alone."

"Maura," Jane said, sounding…hurt? Sad? "According to DiNozzo, Doyle just busted in here and had you fix him up at gunpoint."

"Tony was held at gunpoint, not me."

"Still! The man broke into your house—"

"Actually, they just came in through the back door. Your mother left it unlocked."

"_Maura!_" That was exasperated, definitely. "Okay, so _I _broke into your door. Maybe that part wasn't traumatic for you, but I'm not gonna be able to find anyone at this hour to come and fix it. It can close all right, but the lock's busted, and I'm not going to leave you alone at night in a house you can't feel totally safe in. And sure, fine, maybe you don't have any qualms about it, but _I _won't be able to sleep if I don't think you're as safe as you could be."

Maura couldn't help smiling. If Jane was a man, her overprotectiveness might be insulting, but there was just something about her in this mode that Maura couldn't help adoring. Maybe it was knowing that she had done the same for Jane once, back when they were still dealing with Hoyt. Part of it was the earnestness in those beautiful dark eyes, looking at her with such concern and so much tenderness—when less than half an hour ago, she had seen them trained darkly and angrily on Doyle. Maybe her nonexistent childhood fantasies were playing catch-up, and her inner child wanted to swoon at the offer of so much personal protection.

Jane's phone started buzzing just then, and she quickly reached for it in case it was Frost or Korsak. "Oh. Speak of the Kate Todd!"

"Go ahead," Maura said, getting to her feet. "I'm going to pour myself a much-needed drink."

As Maura headed into the kitchen, Jane answered the call. "Hey, there!"

_"Jane, thank God, are you all right?"_

"Um… why wouldn't I be?"

"_I turned on the news at the hotel, and there's a breaking story about Patrick Doyle. There's footage of your partner taking him in, and I didn't see you there."_

Jane couldn't help feeling a little perked up by the obvious concern in Kate's tone—not happy, of course, that Kate was worried, but it felt good to know someone had been paying enough attention to notice. "Doyle broke into Maura's house after dinner, and we'd all left. I guess Agent DiNozzo came back..." She scowled a little. When she had been talking with Tony earlier about what happened, she'd of course asked why he'd come back, and she didn't appreciate him trying to wine and dine a girl when he should've been focused on a case. Especially when that girl was Maura, even if Maura didn't see she was too good for him.

"_The NCIS agent?_" Kate pressed her.

"Yeah, him. Anyway we figured Doyle was at Maura's house, and we came and picked him up. I'm still here, 'cause Maura's a little shaken, y'know."

"_Yes, I can understand why she would be. Doyle's her father, isn't he?_"

"In a manner of speaking, yeah."

There was a short silence on the line, and Jane wondered what ought to be said now. She was absently twirling a finger in her hair when Kate, still sounding serious, said, "_I need to talk to you, Jane._"

"Okay. What's up?"

"_Not like this, not over the phone. It needs to be in person._"

Jane sat up a little, frowning. "Everything okay?"

Kate sighed. Jane glanced up when Maura walked back over, standing by the couch with her glass of wine and a concerned look on her face. "_Jane, I just really need to talk to you. And it can't wait until tomorrow. Text me Maura's address and I'll come to you. Please._"

Jane held the phone to her shoulder for a second. "Hey Maura, is it okay if Kate comes over a minute? Guess she was more rattled by what happened tonight than I thought."

"Yes, tell her it's fine," Maura said quickly. It was probably a good thing, having her come here. That way, if things went poorly—if Jane got wildly upset—Maura would be on hand to comfort her, to make sure Jane didn't do anything rash.

With Maura's address in her phone, Kate drove with the speed and determination of Gibbs. She had been filled in on what happened at Maura's house by her team, with Tony being tactful for once. The time had come for her mission to end, and for a short time, she had contemplated just leaving without a word. But that was the coward's way out. Maybe Jane could just shrug it off, but maybe it would leave her feeling even more wounded than before—doubtful, perhaps, of her ability to really embark on a relationship. She wasn't going to like to hear what Kate had to say, but the truth had to be better than nothing.

Right?

She got to Maura's house, and it was Maura who opened the door when Kate walked inside. It was still a little funny to both of them, being near someone who looked so eerily like her. The same, yet very different.

"Is Jane still here?" Kate asked, once welcomed inside.

"She asked if she could borrow my shower," Maura sighed. "I guess breaking into doors can build up quite a sweat."

"I wouldn't have minded," Kate said with a shrug.

Maura looked at her, but Kate wouldn't meet her gaze. "Agent Todd." Kate didn't react, and Maura figured she had been told by her team that Maura was onto her. "I don't know what exactly you came here for, but I'm going to ask you not to tell Jane the truth."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm cursed, in a way," Maura said. "I am physically incapable of telling lies. I faint. I get hives. My mother, of all people, lamented my inability to do this very basic thing. She told me that sometimes we ought to keep the truth to ourselves. Sometimes we only tell it to people because we think it will make _us _feel better, regardless of how it will affect the other person."

"That's not how I was raised," Kate said curtly. "You use someone, you apologize. I'm not trying to wound Jane, here. I'm trying to be honest so that she'll know my leaving has nothing to do with anything she did or didn't do."

"She's not expecting you to move in, Kate," Maura said. "She knows you don't live in the area. She knows you're looking around. Just thank her for the fun times but tell her something's come up and you need to go back to D.C.! That's true, isn't it?"

A door opened, and they both went silent, waiting. Judging by the direction it'd come from, Maura knew it was the sound of Jane leaving the bathroom. She didn't have much more time to plead with Kate, and it seemed the woman was set on her goal, anyway. Just moments later, Jane came walking into the room in a t-shirt and pair of sweats, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. Maura excused herself and Jane joked "don't worry, we'll be good."

Once Maura was gone, Kate sighed and sat down on the couch. Jane was instantly by her side. "What's up, Kate, you all right?" When Kate remained silent, trying to remember what she had planned on saying, Jane frowned and guessed at what had caused the melancholy. "D'you have to back to D.C.?"

"What?"

Shrugging at the surprised look on Kate's face, Jane went on, "You've said from the start that you're from there, and that you've been kind of putting around looking for a new place. I figured maybe you had an offer back in the capital of some kind."

"But Jane…"

"I really like you, Kate," she said softly. "But I knew you weren't going to stay in Boston forever. At least, not right now. I mean I know, this is a little sooner than I'd like, but…"

Silence loomed over them, and Kate realized Jane was gently squeezing her knee. Maybe she could just leave it like this. Let Jane think that was all, and that maybe someday she'd be back. Let her think Kate would be hitting up gay bars in D.C. because she was totally a lesbian! Of course there were the intangibles—for all she knew, Maura could find herself boxed into spilling Kate's identity. Maybe Doyle would mock Jane about it if she went to interrogate him. Hell, maybe Tony would get drunk one night and leave a voicemail for Jane about it. She'd be long gone by then, of course. She could avoid returning Jane's phone calls if she wanted to.

But her conscience got in the way. The same conscience that kept her from passing college physics the first time around, because she admitted to cheating on the take-home final. The conscience that had kept her from drinking until the legal age, no matter what her friends or brothers were doing. The conscience that made her resign from the Secret Service because of an affair nobody would have ever, _ever_ found out about.

"I haven't been honest with you," she said, her breath short.

"Um…about what?" Jane asked uncertainly.

Kate sat up a little straighter, and Jane's hand slid off her knee. Forcing herself to keep eye contact, Kate said, "I want you to hear this from me, Jane. I am Agent Caitlin Todd. Two years ago I resigned from the Secret Service and was hired by Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs to work at NCIS."

She stopped there, trying to discern Jane's expression. Nothing had registered yet except for shock.

"Our team came to Boston at the start of Fleet Week. And that Petty Officer was murdered. We got a tip—one that wound up being pretty off, I guess—and that led to me… going undercover at that club. The Merch. I felt very uncomfortable because I'd never been to a place like that before, and to make matters worse, I had Tony in my ear the whole time!"

She wasn't sure what kind of reaction she'd wanted that to inspire; maybe a sympathetic laugh, but Jane just looked away and leaned fully back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

Kate went on: "I felt so unsure of myself, and we almost called it a night, and then you… you came over to my table. And you were just this stunning, beautiful thing. For the first time at that club, I found myself genuinely…" She faltered. 'Aroused' was not the word she wanted to use, even if it was apt. "Genuinely intrigued," she decided, and Jane looked over at her, still frowning and arms folded. "You were confident, but you weren't cocky. You didn't try taking advantage of me."

"I thought you looked like you were into me," Jane mumbled.

"I was. You really took my breath away."

"So have I been a suspect for you this whole time? Why didn't you just interrogate me, make this all easier?" Jane asked sharply.

"Your DNA eliminated you as a direct suspect," Kate explained. She watched as Jane remembered the aggressive way she had kissed Kate's neck that night, flushing a little with humiliation as she realized that must have been how her DNA was received.

"So what, then?"

Kate took a deep breath. "We did some research and learned about your connection to Doyle. Gibbs wanted to make sure you were clean, and I was …he wanted…"

"He wanted you to get close to me and find out what you could," Jane snorted. Now she had leaned forward, clasping her hands together tightly. "Wow. _Wow_. Okay. I… can't believe I fell for y—for that."

"I'm really not a very good actress," Kate said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I've honestly felt very confused by all this, because I honestly feel a very real attraction to you." At that, Jane caught her eye again. "I have never considered dating a woman before in my life. I was a little unsettled by everything you've made me feel because I never …I never thought a woman would make me feel that way."

"What way?" Jane asked, her voice little more than a low rumble.

Kate raised an eyebrow at her. "I think you know," she said quietly. "Point being, I told myself it was all right because I was only doing it for the job."

"Were you?" Jane pressed her.

Kate laughed softly. It really wasn't that funny. It was just a very good, very intimidating question.


	13. FUBAR

**A/N**: So a while ago I said I had no idea what I was doing. I still don't. I genuinely apologize if I gave any other impression. Italicized lines at the beginning are from the ending of the last chapter.  
**Also, the chapter title**: another military term (I believe) standing for "effed up beyond all recognition/repair"

* * *

_"Point being, I told myself it was all right because I was only doing it for the job."_

_"Were you?" Jane pressed her._

_Kate laughed softly. It really wasn't that funny. It was just a very good, very intimidating question._

"Part of me wants to say it shouldn't matter because you're here, and very shortly, I'll be back in D.C. And yes, Jane, initially I was only doing it for the job. I had a job to do. But I took it places it didn't need to go—literally, like back up to my hotel room—because I found myself really attracted to you."

Jane was staring down at the carpet, and when she spoke, she mumbled. "I like you more than any other woman I've ever been with." Her enunciation became clearer as her voice rose: "And I haven't even 'been' with you yet! I mean, at all! Kate, I just—I feel like …I don't even know, I just feel so _stupid_."

"Please, Jane, you shouldn't."

"I _shouldn't?_ You've been playing me for a sucker this whole time! Geez, I—I came out to my mother because of you! What if that'd blown up in my face? I felt so good, I felt so comfortable and right around you, and you've just been hoping to get close enough to me to find out if I—"

"I never thought you were guilty!" Kate cut in. "And have you heard a word I've been saying? You asked me if I was only doing it for the job. I wasn't."

"That doesn't change the fact that you—that I've been getting lied to."

"I could have left without a word," Kate said. "I could have just gone and taken off, but I wanted to tell you what happened, I wanted to stop lying the moment I could, because I felt you deserved that. I meant everything I ever said to you, Jane. _Everything_. You are incredible in so many ways, and any woman who gets the chance to date you is pretty damn lucky." There was silence for a considerable time, as Jane reverted her gaze back to the floor, hunched over slightly and kneading her hands for lack of anything better to do with them. "Jane?" Kate asked softly.

She sighed shortly, shaking her head. "Look, Kate. The cop in me totally understands what you did. I get it. Pretty good plan."

"But?"

"But there's more to me than just the cop side."

"I know."

"Oh, right. I guess another cop _would _know that," Jane snorted.

"Jane, I'm not asking you to forgive me right away—"

"Good, because I'm sure as hell not gonna forget this right away. Not for a while."

That left a loaded silence, and Kate got it as the cue to leave. Painful as it was, she could completely understand Jane's offence and likely desire to be left alone right now. There were still questions to be asked, things she wanted to say—_will I ever see you again?—_but this was not the time to let them be said. Maybe there wouldn't ever be a time. Kate got slowly to her feet, collecting her purse, stalling a little to give Jane time to ask her to stay. Not a likely possibility, but… nope, definitely not a possibility. She took a few steps towards Maura's door, but couldn't leave without making what might be her final request towards Detective Rizzoli.

"Jane, will you promise me just one thing?"

"I don't owe you anything, _Agent _Todd."

"I'm fully aware of that, Detective. But you _do _owe it to yourself not to take this as a setback in terms of how far you've come. I was proud to be out with you, and I hope you were proud to be…" She shrugged. "Out."

"Yeah, sure," Jane scoffed. "I put myself out there and look what happened."

"Look what happened? You got a woman who's never looked twice at another girl to _pray _you would call her after just one chance meeting! You learned your mother loves you who for who you are, and that by and large, nobody gives a crap when you take a woman out on a date. Hate me all you want and hate how we got here—hell, don't believe me when I say how much I was attracted to you. Just _do not _hate yourself for taking a chance and for being who you are."

It took a minute for the words to penetrate the layers of hurt that had started caking themselves around Jane, and by the time they really resonated, Kate was gone. By then, Maura had walked back into the living room, looking sympathetic and a little awkward. Jane's hands were clenched together, elbows resting at her knees as if she were about to pray, but Maura knew better and hesitantly went to sit next to her friend. Inviting Kate to her house, she had been ready to expect the worse. But it still hurt to see tears welling in Jane's eyes.

"Jane?" she whispered. The woman blinked and tears silently fell. There was a long pause, and then Maura cautiously rested her hand on Jane's shoulder. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"Um, I don't know," Jane mumbled. She sniffed loudly and a few more tears fell; turning away from Maura, she tried to brush them from her eyes. "I just feel like s-_such _an idiot."

Maura clicked her tongue. "Don't say that, Jane."

"I am, though. I'm supposed to be a friggin' detective and I can't even…" She limply held her hands out in front of her, as if trying to drop something on the floor, but nothing came.

"Please, Jane. Is there anything I can do?"

Apparently, yes. She could provide alcohol.

It started off casually enough, as sort of a "ha, ha, I'll drink my troubles away" sort of thing, but she left the realm of sobriety fairly quickly.

Jane was lying on her back on Maura's couch, tossing her rolled-up sock into the air and catching it over and over like it was a ball. Occasionally she missed and it hit her in the face, and though Maura winced each time this happened (eventually getting one of her own clean socks for Jane to use), Jane would just pick it up and throw it again like nothing had happened. Maura had privately hoped that the alcohol would loosen Jane's tongue enough to tell her about Kate being an NCIS agent—then tomorrow, maybe Maura could act like she only knew because Jane had drunkenly told her about it.

"So it was just gonna be another night at the Merch, right?" Jane said. "I had this pretty good routine down. Went there a lot."

"How long have you known you liked women?" Maura asked.

"Uhhh, I dunno. It was maybe one of those things I just knew but didn't wanna think about 'cause, you know… my parents and the Pope and all that. Stuff. Just, stuff. But then there was that time we switched clothes in your office, and _ohhh-ho-ho!_" She laughed, dropping the sock and then clutching it to her forehead. "We were stripping down and I thought it'd be so funny if someone came in and would be like, _whoa, what's going on in here!_"

"That would have probably seemed a tad unprofessional, yes."

"They'd have thought we were doing it, Maura. I think half the people we work with already think that. Did you ever think it? Don't answer that."

"Okay."

"Anyway, I didn't look at you 'cause I was trying to be respectful, but then later you said two women hit on you when you were in my outfit. And I thought that was pretty dumb. I mean I thought _I'd _been pretty dumb. If women hit on you in my clothes, why wouldn't they hit on me? Is it 'cause even when you're dressed like a butch, you're still this pretty sweet little thing? But the suit gives you like, this _irresistible lesbian power_. Like a superhero but better. It's like a… you know?"

"I'm afraid I don't, actually."

Jane started tossing the balled-up sock again. "Mm. Anyway, I thought maybe the Merch would be a better place to try out my suit when I wasn't working, and I was a total chick magnet. A _babe _magnet. And suddenly I was getting laid. A lot. A lot, a lot. And I was kinda like, well, I guess that's it. Because I didn't ever stay with anybody. Didn't ever go out where people would see us. 'Cause that'd be like saying it was real and if it was real, then my family would have to know and you would have to know and everybody would know …and nobody can know. It has to be that thing I did for work that one time but then I kept going back. Because you know the thing about women, Maura?"

She thought it was a redundant question, but Jane was looking at her expectantly. Settling uneasily into the chair by the sofa, Maura said, "What thing?"

"They're hot. They are _hot_, Maura. Hot to look at, hot to touch, hot when they're looking at you and you know they want you in your bed. For you. Not to go bragging around to their friends about how they nailed that cop, you know?"

"That must have felt very validating," Maura said, nodding slowly.

Jane nodded too. "Yeah, it was validating. I felt very validated. Not violet. Violated. Don't you ever feel just… kinda _gross _after you sleep with a guy? Well, no, I guess you don't. You probably feel really sexy and whatever, right? I never really did. I just wanted to get out of there, y'know? So I thought, okay. I could do this thing and just be at the Merch whenever, and that'd be that. But then I saw her."

"Kate?" Maura asked mournfully.

"Yeah. Kate." Jane's voice had gotten low. She leaned towards Maura, looking at a spot on the chair just by her elbow. "Know what I thought the first time I saw her? The first time I saw Kate? I thought she looked like you."

Maura laughed lightly. "Ah, so all I needed to do to get you to admit that was give you some beer."

"Admit what?"

"You've been refusing to acknowledge that Kate and I look very similar."

Jane made some sort of dismissive noise and waved her hand, now looking directly at Maura (it was a struggle, but she managed). "Pfft. Whatever, it's so obvious. You know what I thought the first time I saw _you_, Maura?"

"Well, let me think about that one," Maura said loftily, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. "If I'm remembering correctly, we were first formally introduced at the crime scene of the Napoli murder, and you gave me quite a hard time about my chosen ensemble. Particularly the shoes. And then I leant you a rubber band because you didn't have anything to tie your hair back with, and when I tried to josh you about your professionalism, you were quite sour about it. So I'm guessing one of the first things you thought was that I was out of my natural habitat and maybe a bit bossy."

"No," Jane said flatly. "The first thing I thought the first time I saw you was that you were really hot."

There was a short silence, during which Jane kept her gaze fixed purposefully on Maura. "Oh," the doctor breathed.

"Yeah that crime scene was when we were first _introduced_, like you said, but it wasn't the first time we met. I was undercover as a hooker, remember? We were at the café. You tried to pay for my food 'cause Stanley wouldn't help me out. And I looked at you and was just like… whoa. That woman's hot. And you kept smiling at me and you kept falling in all these brackets."

"Brackets?"

"Yeah, brackets, you know, like—you were hot, and then you looked beautiful, and then you did this thing with your eyebrows and you had these dimples and it was like really sexy. The… brackets. See? Categories. You fall into every single one."

"Jane…"

"And for a second, when I saw Kate, I thought she was you, and I freaked out 'cause here _you _were at a gay bar like me. But then I saw it wasn't you but I was still—y'know, interested, and I really liked talking to her. I felt smooth with her. Did you know I like to flirt? Because I do. I really, really do. And I think I'm pretty good at it. I never thought I was any good because it felt so dumb and forced and stuff around guys, but it was kinda effortless when I'm around women."

_I guess that would account for all the times I could've sworn you were flirting with __me__…_

"So Kate took the bait. Or I guess I took her bait—because guess what!"

"Um…what?" Maura asked uneasily.

Jane laughed loudly, suddenly tossing the rolled-up sock at Maura. She tried to, anyway; her aim was a bit off and it landed on the floor, but Maura dodged nonetheless. "Kate's a cop! She's a navy cop! You know Tibbs and Tony and McWhosit's? Kate works with them! She's one of them, and she started going out with me 'cause she thought I was a dirty cop! Know why they thought I was dirty?"

"I can guess…"

"Yeah, your old man. Your daddy. Paddy. Ha, ha! That rhymed."

Maura really wasn't sure where to take this. Being sober when Jane was drunk was new territory for her, and she wasn't sure she liked the responsibility that came with it. What parts of their conversation would Jane remember having? "Um, yes. Yes it did, Jane. Excellent rhyming."

"I _am_ excellent, aren't I?" Jane asked, looking into her empty bottle to see if there was any liquid left (there wasn't). "I covered your ass and Paddy's ass every time he wanted to see you. And what's that get me? One investigation into my life's not enough. Very Special Agent Tibbs—or Gibbs, whatever—has to go and do it again, only this time he throws his hot little minx into the mix. Oh. _Oh._"

Jane's gaze became even more unfocused, and her mouth fell open a little. She was either horrified or just deeply shocked; Maura couldn't tell.

"Jane? Are you all right?"

"I just thought. Did Kate not sleep with me 'cause this was a case? Because I was a job? Maybe we'd have had sex by now. Normally I would have."

"Normally? You said you'd never dated a woman before. It was all just sex."

"I know! So dating would've made it even better, right? Even if it was soon, for her. I guess that's why she'd never been with a woman, either. Know what she told me, though? She said she was 'attracted' to me." She used actual air quotes. "But I don't think she's gay."

Maura sighed. If Jane was sober, this might have been a good time to discuss things like theories of sexual fluidity and heteronormativity, but she couldn't see how any of that could be very productive at the moment.

"Why'd you sigh like that?" Jane asked, suddenly sounding defensive. "You don't believe Agent Kate could actually be attracted to someone like me?"

"No, no, that's not what I m—"

"You don't think I can turn straight heads? 'Cause I can. I have. Probably, I mean. And if you heard the sounds I made Kate make, you'd believe she was into me as much as _I _believed it."

Maura had averted her gaze, looking down at her hands as she twisted a ring needlessly around her finger. The silence wasn't contemplative or atmospheric, it was awkward. Uncomfortable. What could she say to comfort Jane that wasn't a lie? If Maura didn't know for sure how Kate felt about all this, there was no way to give Jane any honest consolation. All she knew for sure was that this was definitely not the time to start gushing about how easy it was for her to believe any woman could fall for Jane Rizzoli like a safe. She would know.

Over the course of the silence, Jane had become very somber. "I hate this, Maura. I hate feeling so stupid. So blind. I mean what, I see a gorgeous women with great legs and great boobs and that smile and I'm just s'posed to forget everything I was ever taught? That's—I dunno, that's something some horny _guy _would do!"

"Jane, don't be upset with yourself over this. You met a woman who expressed interest in you, and who stimulated you. For what it's worth, I _do_ believe she was genuinely fond of you and sorry for what she was doing. I know what this is about."

"What?"

"You're not upset about her cop skills beating out yours—at least, that isn't what upsets you the most. You tend to be emotionally guarded. I understand that. So I can understand how much it must have hurt to go out on that limb and then find out not everything was as you had thought. Just…" She reached out and took one of Jane's hands between both her own, a move Jane had pulled on her several times to comfort her. "Know that I'm here for you, Jane. No matter what you're going through, I will _always _be here. I love you."

Jane sniffed loudly and lifted her gaze from their clasped hands to Maura's eyes. "Love like just like, or love like… love?"

Rather than answer, Maura leaned forward and drew Jane into a very tight, very long embrace.

* * *

"She's giving you the cold shoulder too, huh?"

"Yeah, not even Gibbs is immune. Not that he really tried."

Tony and McGee were standing outside the BPD café, looking longingly at the Danishes and bagels that were being protectively hovered over by Angela. She kept shooting the two agents distrustful looks, and neither could wait for Gibbs to come back down from his meeting with the lieutenant.

"I guess a woman's bound to be upset when your team tries taking advantage of her daughter," Tony sighed. "Who do you think told her—Cavanaugh?"

"Or Dr. Isles."

"Right, the doc. You know I heard Rizzoli's little brother say that Detective Rizzoli spent the night at her place. Think she hooked up with Kate's double?"

"Geez, Tony."

"Oh. Oh, man. I just had the most amazing thought. A threesome between those three! Huh? Am I right? Yeah, I am."

McGee screwed his eyes shut. "Please, Tony, I don't want to be like you. Don't make me picture our co-worker doing that…"

"Hey, I'm not making you do anything," Tony said innocently. "Probie, there's nothing wrong with having an active imagination. You know, I don't even think I'd mind that much if I was dating a girl who decided she was into that. If she, y'know, did it with a girl or two? Don't think I'd mind."

"You don't think cheating is cheating?"

"If it's a man, I'd think, 'what's he got that I haven't got?' Whereas with a woman…" His raunchy smile faded slightly as he noticed the mortified look on McGee's face. "Gibbs is right behind me, isn't he."

A familiarly gravelly voice spoke: "Nope, guess again." Tony turned to see Jane, who looked entirely capable of killing him with a single look.

"Detective Rizzoli! How ravishing you look this morning."

"Tell you what, DiNozzo," Jane growled. She was hungover, had a headache, had spent the night on a couch, and was in no mood to even try playing along with a horndog like Tony right now. "Some day when you think you're all set and happy in D.C. with a woman? When you're actually in love and not lusting, and you think you've found the one and maybe married her? I'm gonna find you. And I'm gonna find her. And I'm going to screw her so hard that the only name she'll remember is mine. Then when you feel that betrayal and that hurt, you go on over to McGee's and we'll see if you're laughing about it."

With that, she stormed into the café, and Gibbs took her place by Tony shortly afterwards. "Go get the car. I'll be with you guys in a minute."

"On it, boss."

Once Tony and McGee were gone, and Angela was preoccupied with some customers, Gibbs walked over to the coffee table where Jane was preparing a cup. She glanced at him, and seeing who it was, quickly returned her eyes to her coffee.

"Morning, Detective Rizzoli."

"You've seen Cavanaugh?"

"Yes."

"Well then, I guess it's back to D.C. for you guys. Ciao."

He didn't miss the sharpness in her tone, but didn't leave yet, either. "Agent Todd is usually the buffer when we've got long distances to travel. Gonna be a long trip without her. She's taking her vacation time to go visit a brother in Concord." When Jane didn't respond to this, Gibbs pulled a small paperback book out of his jacket pocket.

Jane sighed heavily, still not looking at him or what he was trying to hand her. "Agent Gibbs, I have nothing to say to you or Agent Todd. Please, just go."

"This isn't an apology present. I think it'd be some enlightening reading for you." At that, Jane took the little book and raised an eyebrow. It was the first novel in McGee's _Deep Six _series, the one they had discussed at Sunday dinner. She looked questioningly at Gibbs, and he said, "Thought you might especially want to read chapter two."

Knowing he'd already overstayed his welcome, Gibbs walked away, leaving Jane alone at the book. She finished putting her coffee together and went to sit down, waiting a few minutes to make sure Gibbs had left before she flipped the book open to the second chapter.

_"Agent Kay Dott is the kind of women most men can only dream about knowing. She's beautiful, she looks good with a gun, she's fiery, and she's smart as a whip. Putting up with Tibbs and especially Tommy isn't always easy, but she's able to hold her own in spite of the pressure. There is always pressure to prove herself as a woman in what's traditionally known as a man's field. _

_ "But she always persists. She never lets anyone down. She will go for the underdog every time, because that's just her way. It's who she is. Kay is very strong and virtually fearless, except occasionally for her emotions. Her heart is worn on her sleeve, stitched there for eternity. She is genuine and a kind-hearted soul, one who believes in others' lost causes and in leaving no man behind. Kay can be counted on for compassion. It goes against her nature to be for anything else."_


	14. Into Your Shell

**A/N**: Wow, sorry it took me so long to update! I guess I've just been a bit nervous because people are pulling for this story and these characters to go in a lot of different directions, and it's sort of nerve-wracking to know that anything you write is bound to upset/annoy a lot of people. So I apologize if you're not interested. I won't turn away constructive criticism, but please, think before you flame.

* * *

Angry Jane, Embarrassed Jane, Unpleasant Jane, and Annoyed Jane were all Janes that BPD knew how to handle. Even if it wasn't fun, there was unspoken protocol in place; ways to get around and work with Detective Rizzoli—only if strictly necessary, of course.

Nobody knew what to make of Slighted Jane.

It was more than moodiness, and more than just being merely upset. She wasn't joking around, and she also wasn't acting all gruff and business-driven. There were no open cases, and in spite of the cold case folders piled on her desk, she was staring out the window, utterly aimless. Frost and Korsak kept exchanging glances as they passed her desk, each of them trying to engage her in some sort of conversation, with no luck. Frankie came up, and when he asked Jane if he was okay, all she did was ask him to steer clear of their mother. Angela had gotten the gist of what happened from Maura, and while Jane appreciated that her mother was on her side, she didn't want it all broadcast yet.

But enough was enough, and after half a day of drone-Jane, Frankie took her by the elbow and dragged her towards the elevator for a private conversation.

"What's goin' on, Jane?"

"Nothing, Frankie." She shrugged. "Just leave it."

"No, I'm not letting you off the hook this time! If it were _me_, and I was moping around the building not talking to anybody, not getting any work done, and closing up after I'd been almost unrecognizably giddy for days on end? You'd get on my tail to find out what had happened!"

Jane's frown only deepened. "Giddy?"

"Yeah, giddy! I didn't wanna make any comments about it 'cause I know, you're too cool," he said, rolling his eyes and holding his hands up. "So I didn't want to spoil whatever was going on by making you self-conscious about it. But now you're upset. And I can't just stand by and do nothin' when you're upset, Jane. You're my sister. Let me act like your brother."

Jane was pretty sure they were both remembering the same incident. In high school, a group of boys had targeted the freshman Frankie for some pretty brutal hazing, and Jane vowed revenge (which she ultimately got). Though initially humiliated that the sister he admired so much had seen him at such a low, Frankie was grateful she had cared enough to step in and help. It had made him feel cared about, looked after.

_"You don't have to do this, Jane."_

_ "C'mon, Frankie! You're my brother. I'll always have your back, and I know you've got mine. That's what siblings do."_

"Was it a guy?" Frankie guessed in a low voice. Even as Jane was shaking her head, he went on, "I know you can take care of yourself if it was ever, y'know, like you were in physical danger or something. But if he broke your heart—"

"No, Frankie."

"—I don't care how cliché it is; I'll break his face!"

"It's not a guy, Frankie."

"So what is it, then?!"

"It's a girl!" His mouth fell open. He couldn't have looked more shocked if Jane had just told him she'd decided to give up detective work for a life in the ballet. On Mars. "It's a girl," she repeated, a little more quietly and looking a little more serious, less agitated.

Frankie's eyes darted to the left, making sure nobody was within hearing distance. His mouth was still hanging open in shock, and reverting his gaze back to Jane, he could see her looking uneasily at him. Waving his hand, he tried to stall, to come up with something to fill the silence.

"H…was it that woman who you left the café with the other day? The one who looked like Maura?"

Jane sighed heavily. "Yeah, it was her."

She stuffed her hands in her pockets and leaned against the wall, staring at the floor. Frankie still looked baffled; he removed his hat and fumbled with it as he tried to think of something to say. Whenever Jane dared to glance at him, he would quickly avert his gaze.

During the silence, Jane thought to herself that while Kate had surely contributed much to her giddiness, a lot of it had probably also come with the freedom of just being _out _with her. True, the world at large still hadn't been told, but Jane's best friend and her mother knew, easing off a huge load of the self-inflicted weight on her back. She was giddy because she was enjoying more than just the occasional one-night stand, heavily guarded and secret, playing a part in some ways. Now she knew the potential for joy that she had, not just fleeting pleasure.

Which, of course, paved the way for heartbreak over mere disappointment.

"So are you honestly surprised?" Jane muttered.

It took Frankie a moment to answer. To be honest, he had sort of started to wonder, if only because Jane never seemed to really try to make any relationships (with men) last. But those had only been fleeting thoughts, ones he'd never tried to really make stick hard to the surface.

"I…guess I just really wasn't expecting you to say that," he finally said. Seeing the slightly anxious look on her face, he was quick to add, "Don't uh, don't worry, though. You're still my sister, Jane."

She sensed the hesitancy in his tone. "But…?"

"But… nothing. I'll—it's nothing, Jane. You like women. Okay. Is it like, _just _women, or do you think you'd still…?"

Jane flinched a little. "Nope. It's just women, Frankie."

"Oh. Okay. Gotcha." Before another painfully long silence could separate them, he thought to ask, "Does Ma know?"

"Yeah," Jane muttered. "She does. I kinda had to tell her."

"And you couldn't tell me?"

"I had to tell Ma because she got it out of Maura!"

"Maura. Do you like her?"

Jane pushed away from the wall, and suddenly her morose visage turned very angry. "Sure, Frankie! I like women, so I must like _every _woman I see, every female friend I've ever had, and oh sure, you can bet Maura's right at the top of that list!"

She moved past him to get into an elevator, and he said, "C'mon, Jane, I didn't mean that!"

As she ignored him and just pushed the elevator button to go down, she wasn't sure which was worse: knowing his last comment was sincere, or knowing he'd been right to guess at her attraction to Maura.

Because really, hadn't Maura Isles been the instigator of all of this?

Jane had had best friends before, but not like this. She'd been close with people before, but not like this. Saying "see you later" was fine, being out of touch for longer than a day was certainly fine. There were a very select few girls Jane could remember being friends with in high school who she'd rearrange schedules for, who she'd go to boring events just because they wanted her to. And the more she thought about it, the less she imagined it had been for mere loyalty. She had genuinely _liked _some of those girls.

Maura was the only friend she'd had as an adult who she spent this much time with. Was she strikingly beautiful? Yes, but that wasn't the only thing that pulled Jane towards her. She found herself becoming touchy-feely. She would stay overnight. She would find excuses to ditch her dates early because Maura was so much more fun to hang out with. Late at night, lying in the dark, she would find herself thinking about it—all the _what if's _and the _am I…?_

And then that case at the Merch had blown everything wide open. It had given Jane a taste of the world she'd been so curious about, shown her that she didn't need to be stilted and awkward at bars. She could be loose, she could be relaxed, she could be the coolest version of herself because she _felt _cool. Like she was in the right place.

From the start, she had resolved not to pursue Maura.

_"And, you don't wanna sleep with me. …__do__ you?"_

_ Look of slight disgust. "No!" _

_ "Well, it's a good thing you're not my type." _

That wasn't to mention the fact that Maura was always eager to make her go dating, always quick to point out why she ought to be sleeping with whichever guy she was dating at the time. Maybe it wasn't relentless in the way Angela had done it, just wanting Jane to find a man who could take care of her, but it was still that sense of dating-men-makes-me-happy-it-will-make-_you–_happy.

Even if Maura _had _been interested, there was that terrible thought of what would happen if they broke up—which, considering Jane's track record with dating, felt inevitable. The falling-out after Doyle had been bad enough. Jane still cursed herself for the loneliness she had put Maura through, removing not only herself but her mother and Frankie. Work became a cold place, and Maura was left with basically no one but Bass to comfort her after the day was through. Surely adding heartbreak into all that would just make it worse?

It was surprisingly easy for Jane to tell herself to get over something she never admitted she even wanted. Still, she unconsciously pursued women who looked strikingly different from Maura, until Kate had come along.

Here was a great match: Kate knew how to play the game. She bantered back. She was aggressive, she pulled back when necessary, she was gorgeous and the most irresistible quality of all: she was very, very into Jane.

Or so it had seemed.

Jane reached the morgue, and Maura was sitting by her computer, reviewing some files. For a moment, Jane just stood by the door, watching Maura study. One hand rested on the keypad, the other lightly at her chin. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, a small frown on her lips. When Jane took a step forward, Maura turned to see who it was, and Jane felt her heart give a familiar flutter when she saw her presence had caused Maura's expression to lighten a little.

"Hi," Maura said, getting to her feet. "How are you feeling, Jane?"

"Hung over," Jane snorted. She sighed and leaned against one of the empty autopsy tables. "I feel kinda bad about how I'm treating the guys upstairs. It's not like any of 'em know I got duped, but still."

"Jane, I want to help you get through this," Maura said steadily.

Jane smiled weakly. Of course Maura would say that. Years of steadfastly getting through break-ups on her own, not answering Angela's phone calls about them, and suddenly Maura had come into her life and made everything so much easier to deal with.

"Thanks," she muttered. "I just don't even really know what to do at this point. I kind of feel like taking myself out of circulation."

"If you think that's best."

"It might be."

Maura hesitated, then walked over to Jane, resting her hand on Jane's shoulder and patiently waiting for that solemn gaze to meet hers. "Jane, I just want to make sure you know something."

She felt almost breathless. "What?"

"Your job…I know it's just—you do what you've been trained to do, and you don't like being treated as a hero, as anything special."

Not really sure where this was going or how it was relevant, Jane shrugged again. "Each of us suits up every day, Maura. We walk out those doors and there's no guarantee we'll come back. Just 'cause one of us actually _does _get caught in the crosshairs, that's no reason to give her a medal over the bravery everyone else in the unit has stored right down to their bones."

"You find ceremonies and congratulations superfluous."

"Kind of."

"Well, then, I want to congratulate you on your bravery in another area of your life. One that's just as vitally important, that took a lot of courage, but that you're not likely to get awarded a medal for."

Once she got it, Jane's smile widened and she put her hand over Maura's. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I, uh…I just told Frankie."

"And?"

"I think he was just sort of caught off-guard about it."

"I'm sure he'll come around, he just needs time to adjust. This is a facet of your life you've embraced for a while now, Jane. Frankie's only had—"

"I know, I know," Jane cut her off hastily. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but he talked about how _happy _I'd seemed lately, and I guess I just …I guess that's why. Being with her just made me feel so…" She waved her hand, as if trying to grope the right word out of the air in front of her, and when she settled on one, her voice was soft: "Free." She glanced at Maura, then forced out a laugh and self-consciously looked down at the floor. "That sounded kinda stupid, didn't it?"

"Not at all," Maura said seriously. "Jane, you don't let me say things like this very often, so will you just let me talk now and say how proud I am of you?"

"Aw, geez," Jane groaned, smiling a little.

"Honestly. I'm always proud of you, and I've always been proud of the amazing, selfless accomplishments you've achieved."

"Yeah, well, trying to get into Kate Todd's pants wasn't exactly _selfless_."

Though she winced a bit at the image, Maura plowed on, "That's my point. I'm glad to see that you're capable of getting your courage up in personal matters, as well. It helps reassure me that _you're _not the cyborg."

Jane looked impressed. "Was that a joke, Dr. Isles?"

Maura bit her lip. "Only if it was funny."

Laughing, Jane stood a little straighter and pulled Maura into a hug. "Using humor to lighten a situation? Now _I'm _proud of _you!_"

Meanwhile, Kate would have given her right arm for a supportive shoulder to lean on in person. She had gone to visit her favorite brother in Concord, the one she had stood by even while the rest of her family had given him a very cold shoulder during his non-Catholic-church approved divorce. Her parents hadn't been very civil at his second wedding (which they attended mostly at Kate's insistence). If anyone in her family knew how it felt to be a little on the odds, it would be Peter, right?

Not so.

She explained what had brought her to Massachusetts in the first place, and he kept a brave face while she talked him through her assignment to date a female cop in an attempt to get some information. It was when she admitted that maybe she'd fallen a little harder for this cop than she should have (job-wise) that Peter's expression turned a little sour.

"Did you sleep with her?"

"No. No! That would've been entirely unprofessional."

"But you—you like, you made out."

"Yes."

"For the job, or because you wanted to?"

"Both! I mean, I had to make out with her to convince her was I interested in her, and I happened to really, really like her at the same time."

"Okay, but the job's done now, right?" Peter asked. "So you're not gonna see her again, right?"

"I _want _to see her again. Because aside from the near-debilitating guilt I felt about lying to her, I sincerely enjoyed being around her. I looked forward to our dates, for all that implies."

Peter sounded a little panicked. "You still like guys, though, right? You're not like… a _total _lez or anything?"

Kate felt as though her chest was folding in on itself, her heart suddenly seemed so sluggish and hard. She knew that anger was etched into every line of her face, and there was nothing she could do—or wanted to do—to change that.

"Okay, _brother_, I'm kind of curious where you stand on the whole 'total lez' issue! Do you think the women in those dirty videos you used to watch were _totally lezzies_, or only when the cameras were on? As long as they only actually slept with guys where it _really mattered_, did the things they did in those movies bother you? Or was it okay, because _you _were getting something out of their exploitation?"

"Whoa, sis, calm down."

"Calm down?! _Calm down?! _When you've always been the rule breaker in our family and I _always _had your back, and I never judged you!"

"Well I never did something like this!" he yelled back.

"Like _what?_"

"You're my little sister, and no sister of mine's gonna go around—being—"

Kate stood up, and Peter followed suit. "Wow," she scoffed. "Peter, I really expected better from you. I thought I could talk to you."

"Look, Kate, you can, okay? We'll get you back to normal."

"I don't even know what kind of 'normal' I want anymore!" Kate said, yanking away her arm when her brother had reached for it. "I wanted somebody I could talk all this through with, someone who knew me really well, and I thought that was you. But if your only concern is going to be hypocritically trying to get me to conform to some standard _you don't even hold yourself to_—"

"I never tried sleeping with another guy!"

"Right, but adultery and divorce are totally fine!"

"It was justified! You know what Mary was like, what she did to me!"

"That makes none of this okay, Peter! None of it! You found somebody who made you happy, and you found her where you weren't expecting it. All I'm asking is for you to extend that same courtesy to me." Her voice had lowered just a touch, as Peter still looked shocked and helpless. Her big brother suddenly looked so small. "I used to think it was all black and white, Peter. Right or wrong, yes or no, gay or straight."

"Jesus, Kate, don't tell me you're gonna go around now like one of those people who says 'sexuality is fluid,'" he snorted, affecting an accent and rolling his eyes.

"Peter, look. I used to think that way, too. That it was a dumb idea and only a handy excuse purported by people who wanted to try having sex with whoever they wanted whenever they wanted. But now it's happened to me."

"Kate? It was for _work_. You said so yourself. You just got a little confused, that's all."

"Yeah, I'm a little confused. I'm confused because I've never felt attracted to women before, and suddenly, I found myself trying to come up with excuses to get my hands on this one all the time. I'm confused, and that's not a bad thing, Peter."

"Stay here, I'll set you straight."

Now it was Kate's turn to roll her eyes, and she turned and headed for the door. "No thanks. At this point, I'd rather talk this through with my _partner_, and that's really saying something."

"What, you're gonna go? Okay, Kate, fine. Don't confront this, just run away."

"I _am_ confronting this; I'm just going to do it without _your_ help," she hissed.

She was sitting in her car, trying to decide which hotel she should go to, when her phone started ringing. Grateful for the distraction, she picked it up without hesitation.

"Agent Todd."

"Kate! Why didn't you tell me?!"

The shrill excitement in Abby's tone made Kate jump, and she pulled the phone away from her ear for a second. "Abby?"

"Maura Isles!"

"What about her?" Kate sighed.

"Tony finally showed me a picture of—"

"She looks just like me, I know," Kate cut her off. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I was a little distracted."

"No, Kate, that's not it, I _know _this chick!"

Kate sat up a little straighter, nearly dropping the phone. "You _know _her?"

"Yeah!"

"What, you met at some kind of forensics conference or something? You've read one of her articles…?"

"No! Remember how I told you I fooled around a little with a girl when I was getting my master's?"

"It was Maura Isles?!"

"No! No. Like I'd have been so lucky! The girl I _did _kiss was Maura's roommate, though. She was pretty chill. She owned a tortoise. I just couldn't remember her name, but I remembered the face when I saw it!"

The same went for Maura. When she opened her door that night to a goth-dressed woman with black pigtails, black lipstick, and a peppy smile on her face, she was at a loss for words.

"Is it my yarn?" Angela called from the kitchen.

"Dr. Isles?" Abby said.

She continued to smile as she watched Maura work through it, the name she'd been faxing case information to finally melding with the face of the woman standing on her doorstep. "Abby. Abby Sciuto!"

"Can I come in? I don't have any yarn, but I can help spin one for ya."

* * *

**A/N: **I guess because she got killed off before backstories/family relationships became the cool thing to do on NCIS, we never really got to know much about Kate's siblings and parents while she was still alive. I guess I just wanted to explore that a little, because the Kate Todd I know isn't a pushover, and I wanted to see her stand up for herself. Sorry this story kind of got away from me! I lost my head with it, but I'm going to try to update sooner next time.**  
**


	15. Over and Out

**A/N**: Just wanted to say thanks to anyone who nominated/voted for this fic to win best crossover over at the Rizzles Fan Awards. Thanks so very much, that was a nice surprise :) Hopefully most of you won't regret that decision.

* * *

Angela and Maura looked on silently as Abby, whistling to herself, started to fix some "panda poop" tea (as she called it) that Maura had kindly offered her. As it steeped, Abby decided the awkward silence had gone on long enough.

"Can you believe there are some people who are too grossed out to drink this stuff?" she asked. "I mean granted, it's maybe not a particularly lovely image, but this stuff is mad good for you!"

Passing over the confusion of "mad good," Maura said, "I know. Pandas have very poor digestive systems, and only absorb about thirty percent of everything they eat—so their excrement is rich in fibers and nutrients." When Angela could not quite contain a small, grossed-out noise and shiver, Maura said, "Look at it this way, Angela. There are plenty of defects allowed by the FDA to most of the food we eat. Rodent hairs, insect fragments—"

"Okay!" Angela said loudly, waving her hands and walking away from the kitchen island. "You know what, I'm just gonna let you two catch up and talk about your panda poop and what-have-you's... good night."

"It was nice meeting you!" Abby said cheerfully, as Angela left to go to the guest house and pray for the girl who'd shown up dressed like she might have been one of Satan's advocates. "So! Maura. Let's get down to business."

"I have to admit, I'm curious about what brought you here."

"I have a dear friend and co-worker who's apparently caused quite a stir in your inner circle lately."

It took Maura a moment. "Do you work for NCIS?"

"Sure do!" Abby said cheerfully. She formally extended her hand, and Maura shook it. "Forensic specialist, ballistics expert, master of the mass spec. Nice to be re-acquainted. Hey, do you bowl?"

"Bowl?"

"Yeah, I just think maybe sometimes it's good to have conversations like these when you're doing something else. You know, gives you a distraction, something to focus on in case an awkward silence. Although I do have my tea here. That's good. Good distraction. There are spoons and things to stir. Ooh, what about music? What kinds of music do you like? Music can be good for this kind of thing, too. Fills in the gaps when there's silences."

"Are you frightened of silence, Ms. Sciuto?" Maura asked.

"No! Why?"

"Well, it... seems that you suffer from what my old psychology professor might have called 'pressure of speech.'"

"Oh, no! No, I'm not usually like this. It's just that I don't usually _do _things like this, you know? Or... I guess you wouldn't."

"I wouldn't. So...?"

"Right! Kate. I'm here about Kate. Call me an ambassador, if you will."

"I'm really not the person you should be speaking to," Maura said with an un-amused laugh, veering to go into the living room.

Abby hurried over, blocking her path. "No, no, no, you are! Because Kate said you're Detective Rizzoli's BFF, and that means you have pull with her. Pull I don't have."

"And why do you need pull?"

"Dr. Isles. Can I call you Maura?"

"You _can_, yes."

"..._may _I call you Maura?"

Maura pursed her lips. "You may."

"All right. So—OH MY GOSH! You still have your tortoise!" Bass had just turned the corner from around Maura's sofa, and Abby practically shrieked with delight and ran over to squat next to him. Patting his shell the way some people might pet a dog or cat, she squealed, "I remember this guy! He was so tiny back when we were in school. Wait," she said, and her face fell for a moment. "It's the same one, right? There was no tragic accident or anything? I mean these things live for decades!"

"Yes, that's still Bass," Maura sighed, slipping her hands into her pockets and leaning over.

"Oh, yeah! Bass! _That _was his name. After the Body Farm founder guy, right?" When Maura's response was an unenthusiastic nod, Abby quickly got to her feet and said, "Right, sorry, back to business. You are no longer speaking to Forensic Specialist and Tortoise Enthusiast Abby Sciuto; you are looking at Kate Todd's Ambassador Sciuto. At her—and your—service."

"Look, I understand Kate has a relatively high moral character," Maura said. "I've read Agent McGee's books."

Abby looked delighted. "Oh, have you? They're fun, huh?"

"I suppose. You must be the person Amy Sutton is based on, aren't you?"

"That's me!" Abby said proudly.

"I should have you sign Angela's copies before you leave."

"Angela? I thought that was your mother staying here."

"No, she's Detective Rizzoli's mother."

"Jane's _mother _lives with you?"

"Yes. Is that so strange?"

"Uh, no. It's cool. Very cool, friend-like thing to do. Now look, about Kate. She's been heartsick about this whole operation ever since it started. And p.s., I was there the night she and Jane met. I know Kate really well. I know when she's attracted to someone. And she wasn't acting when Jane went up to her table."

"Look, Abby, I appreciate that you're trying to put in a good word for your friend. And while it's admirable that you came all the way to Boston to do it..."

"Oh, I'm giving a speech at a seminar at BCU the day after tomorrow," Abby said, waving her hand. "I just came in early so I could speak to you."

Still, impressive. "Well, the point of the matter is that Kate has wounded Jane where she's most vulnerable, I'm afraid. Her pride. Jane doesn't like being lied to."

"What a coincidence! Kate doesn't like to lie! Look, Maura, I'm not saying it's true love. I'm just saying that Kate really, _really _liked Jane, and I think if she got the chance, she'd want to try dating her."

There was a short silence, finally interrupted by an audible exasperated sigh from outside. The front door burst open and Jane pushed her way inside, holding a grocery bag in one hand and a case of beer in the other. "Maura, how many times have I asked you to _please_ lock your d—" She froze when she spotted Abby, and Maura looking rather guilty. "Uh... hi?"

"Detective Rizzoli! Hello!" Abby chirped, masking her surprise at Jane's appearance relatively well.

Jane put her things down on the kitchen island, and narrowed her eyes at Abby. "Where have I seen you before?"

"The Merch. I was your waitress there a while ago."

"I see. And what are you doing..._here?_"

"What are _you _doing here?" Both Jane and Maura looked affronted at Abby's question. She put her hands on her hips and looked suspiciously back and forth at the two of them. "It's past ten o'clock on a weeknight. You come in holding groceries and beer. And you're wearing slippers! You're planning to spend the night? Do grown women _do _that? Unless like your house is being fumigated or something, is it? No? No. Of course it's not. And your mother is staying in Maura's guest house? I may not be an investigator, but I'm not blind."

"Who—"

"Watch it, ladies. I can read people like books. Actually, I can read them like big, splashy tabloids. _That's _how easy it is."

"Are you insinuating that Jane and I are in some kind of relationship?" Maura asked.

"_Kate_'_s _the one who's been getting played!"

"You know Kate?" Jane growled.

"I work at NCIS. Forensic specialist, ballist—"

"What, did she send you here?"

"I came as her Ambassador. Not that she isn't handy herself with a Glock, but I'm also prepared to be here as her Rambo if I need to exact justice."

"_I'm _the one who got lied to, and _you _need to exact justice?!"

"You dated her while you were in another relationship?! _Not_ cool, detective!"

"Whoa, slow your roll, there, Evanescence! I'm the one who's been duped here, and you can do all the cute conclusion-jumping you want, but Maura and I are _not _seeing each other!"

Abby folded her arms suspiciously. "How do I know I can believe you?"

"You can believe me," Maura said. "It's physically impossible for me to lie, Ms. Sciuto. Jane is my closest friend, but we aren't romantically involved. I promise."

With a discerning look, Abby started to circle Maura. "Can't lie, huh? Hm. How much do you weigh?"

"116.8 pounds."

If she was surprised that the answer came so promptly, Abby didn't show it. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-eight years, seven months, and... four days."

"Last time you had sex?"

Maura's eyes briefly met Jane's. "With another person? Two months ago."

"Do you own a—"

Jane cut in. "Come on, cut it out!"

"—vibrator?"

"Yes."

Abby had finally come full circle, and she sighed in defeat, marveling at Maura. "So open! So on-the-nose! So uninhibited! What happens if you lie, does your nose grow?"

"Certainly not! If not properly amended, I'll go vasovagal and get hives."

"So you really don't have any feelings for Jane?"

Maura's mouth fell open, and Jane stared at her before she could stammer, "I-I—we aren't in a relationship." Abby pursed her lips, all of them knowing that wasn't what she'd asked. Jane looked totally caught off guard, watching in shock as Maura's hand flew up to her neck, and she started backing towards the kitchen. "Please, Ms. Sciuto, it's very late. I will take what you said about Kate under advisement, but I'd be much obliged if you would please remove yourself from my home."

Sensing that she had just opened a Pandora's box of some kind, Abby looked to the floor and headed out of the living room. It was evident that Jane and Maura had a lot to talk about, and Abby only wished she could know how Kate fit into the equation. Kate would probably freak out if she learned what Abby had done, but it had seemed like a good solution at the time.

Meanwhile, in Maura's kitchen, a bomb might have just gone off. The silence was almost deathly, and Maura couldn't bring herself to face the music yet—not voluntarily. She met Jane's eyes for only one fleeting, gut-sinking moment before turning swiftly on her heel, preparing to go upstairs and leave the conversation there. Alone, before it had even really started.

She was halted by the questioning, confused whisper of her name. Maura turned around, bottom lip between her teeth as Jane stared at her, brow furrowed and hand rubbing her neck. Neither of them said anything for a long while, each hoping and also fearing that the other would try first. Jane had one hand in her pocket, the other clenched into a fist, which she slowly undid as she braved a step towards Maura.

"When?" she asked.

"What?"

"Since when have you felt this way? About me?"

Maura swallowed hard, averting her gaze in an attempt not to cry. "It was inevitable, Jane. Nobody's ever been close to me the way you are. In the past, I... I brushed it off, I refused to acknowledge it. I c-couldn't. I couldn't risk losing you."

"Maura." Her voice was low, and she stepped close enough to reach for Maura's hands, holding them both gently. She waited for Maura to look at her before going on. "Look, let me make one thing perfectly clear, all right? We lost each other once, with Doyle. And it was worse than Dante's most inner circle of hell, right?" She tried to smile at the attempted humor, but it was hard to do when Maura still looked so solemn. "No matter what happens, no matter what you say or—or feel, you are _never _going to lose me again. Ever. Okay?"

Maura nodded, and inhaled sharply. "Okay. Okay."

She slipped her hands out of Jane's so she could pull the detective into an embrace, and Jane wrapped her arms around Maura to return it. Maura was shuddering with unshed tears, and Jane rubbed her back soothingly, praying she wasn't overstepping her bounds by doing so.

Eventually, though, she ventured to ask, "Is that why you were so sensitive to Kate? Because she... kinda looks like you?"

It was hard not to notice Maura seemed to cringe at the question. "Why did you deny it for so long?" Jane's drunken ramblings from the other night had given Maura hope, but she needed sober confirmation.

"Because," Jane said shortly. "I didn't want anyone to think ...I dunno, isn't it kinda weird to try bedding someone who looks like your best friend?"

"That depends on your definition of 'weird,' I suppose," Maura said. "If it was a way to fulfill a deep-seeded but deeply-repressed desire for—"

Jane cut her off, pulling out of the embrace but still staying close. "No, see, that's just what I meant! I didn't want it to be psychoanalyzed, Maura! I saw Kate and I thought she kinda looked like you, and—and yeah, okay, maybe that's what made me go to her table at first, but I wasn't trying to _use _her. I really liked her, and you guys are totally different people. She's on the Secret Serv—well, she _used _to be on the Secret Service, she's an NCIS agent."

"Right, she's a badass," Maura sighed. "Not like boring old me."

"Maura, come on. Kate used me. Regardless of anything else she felt, she used me. And I know you would never, _ever _do that to me."

"So... so what are we saying, here, exactly?" Maura asked quietly, hesitantly. Jane noted that her hands were fidgeting. _She never fidgets_. "Jane? Do you feel the same way? About me?"

Jane was trembling. She shifted, putting her hands in her back pockets. "As long as we're putting everything on the table here, I don't wanna lie to you, Maura. And I'd be—I'd _definitely _be lying if I said I'd never thought about it."

Maura sensed there was more. "But?"

Jane sighed, terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing. "I'm massively confused right now. Just with—coming out to Ma and Frankie, and this whole thing with Kate, and the betrayal and everything, it's... it's just sort of a lot to deal with."

"I understand," Maura said quickly.

"Plus I'd...y'know, I'd already resigned myself to the notion that I could never possibly have you."

"I can assure you, Jane, it's more than possible."

Again Jane attempted a weak smile, and again nothing came of it. "I was trying to shove it all down," she said thickly. "And we got that case, the one at the Merch, and I just _knew _that was what I wanted. But I—I was scared, Maura." She snorted in disgust, kicking lightly at the floor. "Yeah, me. Some badass, huh? Like I was scared of my own shadow. I thought maybe I could have the best of both worlds, and just skate by with some girls who never went anywhere, but it'd be fun and nobody I actually cared about would ever find out. If I tried going for _you_, everyone would know, and I wasn't ready for that."

The past tense rejuvenated Maura's hope. "Are you ready for it now?"

Jane laughed nervously. "I feel like so much has happened, I mean there's just so much crap..." She sighed tensely, rubbing her forehead. "It's just that I need to compartmentalize everything. And then maybe I can... figure it out."

"Do you still have feelings for her?" Maura asked, trying her best not to sound emotional.

"I'm not ask angry anymore," Jane murmured. "She was just doing her job, and maybe we both got a little carried away. Hell, who knows, maybe I'd have gotten a backbone from someone else, but I feel like she really expedited the whole process. And I think I owe her something for that."

"Something like what?"

"A conversation. I think she was just as thrown by all this as I was. She was right, Maura, she could've just gone back to D.C. and not said anything to me. She could've left me alone with all this self-doubt and self-loathing and questioning, and instead she told me the truth in person. That takes balls. Or, uh, ovaries? Of steel."

"Steel ovaries?" Maura asked in confusion.

"It means it took guts, Maura. Courage."

"Oh. Right."

"Gibbs says she's in Concord right now. I think I'd just like to talk to her before she goes back to D.C. Just talk. And then I—maybe I can move up from here. On ward and upward, right? Keep moving forward, chugging along..."

"Jane."

"What?"

"You're rambling."

"Right, sorry. It's just that I guess I want to..."

She trailed off, not sure what else more she needed to say. Upon hearing that Maura was attracted to her, Jane's first instinct had been to just grab her, kiss her, go at it and make up for lost time. But she'd resisted because she was sure that all of her frustration (sexual and otherwise) with Kate had really revved up her drive. She didn't want to jump right into something with Maura, especially when she had been so careful to avoid it for so long.

"Rebound" was a horrible, filthy word, and even though Jane knew she could never consider Maura to be one, she didn't like the possibility that anyone—especially Maura—might consider it that way. And she really couldn't bring herself to jump right from the trouble with Kate into something with Maura. She needed time to clear the air, clear her head.

Suddenly they heard raised voices coming from the guesthouse, and Maura practically jumped. Concern overtook Jane's expression, and she held a finger to her lips and quickly led the way towards the back door. Very quickly she was able to ascertain that her mother wasn't being attacked by some random intruder. That was her father's voice, and it was becoming more distinct as he presumably brought Angela outside from the guesthouse.

"...unbelievable, see what happens when I'm not around?"

"It was _your _decision to up and leave US, Francesco Rizzoli!"

"Boy I guess that sure taught me! Tommy knocks up that idiot slut I've worked for, Frankie loses his promotion to some chick he was trying to shag, and Jane—look what you've let happen to my daughter!"

Jane violently opened Maura's back door, immediately drawing the attention of her parents. "What the hell's going on?"

Angela held up her hands apologetically, looking frantic. "Janie, I'm sorry, he called to catch up on everything and I..."

Jane closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut. Of course her mother had told him their daughter was seeing women now. Of course she could never, ever be trusted to keep something like that quiet from Frank.

For his part, Frank's demeanor had changed entirely when Jane showed up. He still looked strained, but he smiled affectionately at the child who had always secretly/not-so-secretly been his favorite—the only girl who would ever have all of his heart.

"Hey, Jane-o."

"Don't pull that tone with me, old man."

"Don't be like that, Janie, c'mon."

Jane didn't like repeating herself, but she felt the same rhetoric coming back to her that had arrived when Frank had showed up wanting an annulment from Angela. "I idolized you, and you turned your back on this family!"

"I was unhappy, and I didn't take care of it in the best way, I admit it," he said. "So I don't want you acting out either, all right?"

"Pop, I'm not acting out."

"Jane, your Ma told me what you've been up to lately."

"I should go," Maura said, turning to leave the family alone.

"No, no, you wait," Frank said, stepping fully into the house, his smile gone. "Did you put my daughter up to this?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pop, what the hell!" Jane growled.

"Maura, you're a nice girl, but you and Jane were raised very different. You don't have a father you feel you have to answer to, physically or celestially, but Jane's got both. She grew up with both. I'm sure whatever works for you is fine, but Rizzoli's have standards."

"Dad, shut up!" Jane shouted, stepping in front of Maura. "How _dare _you have the nerve to come to my friend's house and imply things like that to her!"

Maura shrugged. "Well, it's true. I come from a godless family who never really cared much what I did so long as it didn't hurt anyone. Really, Jane, you're the one who should resent that comment." She glared at Frank. "Mr. Rizzoli, _nobody _tells Jane Rizzoli what to do or what to be. Any major life decisions she's made, she came to on her own."

"Honey, why would you choose this?" Frank asked Jane, his voice dripping with concern.

"You think I _chose _to be like this? The decision I made that Maura's talking about was the decision to be free about it, to finally enjoy my life! Is that a crime? Or why bother being happy when I can be 'normal,' right? Or is the Catholic divorcee going to give me some more words of wisdom?"

"I can't permit this," Frank said shortly.

"Well whoop-de-doo, dad! I'm not in high school anymore! I don't _need _your approval, all right? Do I want it? Sure, of course I do! But I'm not going to kill myself trying to get the respect of a man I've lost so much of my respect for!"

There were tears in Jane's eyes, his tough, strong, Jane. He hated to see her agitated like this. When she got like this, he just wanted to do what he used to when she'd get upset as a child: hug her, tell her it was going to be okay, that things would be back to normal before she knew it.

"I know you're not a kid anymore, Jane," he said quietly. "But you're still my daughter. You'll always be that, no matter what. You're the best daughter a guy could ask for. But this..." He sighed and shook his head, and Jane's heart sank. Given how his thought had started, she'd dared believe he'd been on the brink of coming around to it. "Maybe we can just ... look, I know your Ma told me, and maybe you were planning on keeping it a secret from me, for my sake? I don't know, but let's pretend that. I think it'd be a lot better on both of us if you just sort of kept this to yourself, all right?"

Jane gaped at him. "You—no! No, dad, that's not all right!"

"What's the big deal, Jane? You never got detailed with me about your sex life before, thank God, so why change it now?"

"Because this isn't just about sex! God, why is that so hard for people to understand?! If I meet someone and I fall in love with her, if it gets really serious, I want to be able to tell my parents about it! If we are still in touch, I'm not going to censor things that are so basic and so important to me just for the sake of your comfort!"

"Jane, I love you. Don't doubt that, okay? But this part of you—this part, I-I wish I'd never heard. I can't know about it, I don't want to know about it."

Bypassing hurt and righteous indignation, Jane flew into what she felt was very justifiable anger, raising her voice. "Then Pop, you don't want to know me!"

Frank shook his head, then turned and walked out of the back door. Jane felt numb, except for a slight buzz that seemed to be running from her head to her toes, the remnants of her disbelief that she had just yelled at a man she had grown up hero-worshipping. The real disbelief came from the complete lack of remorse she felt from it. She wiped at her eyes and allowed Angela to come over and side-hug her, a move she made so she could address Maura.

"Maura, I just want you to know something," Angela said. "I hope you weren't offended by anything Frank said, but if you were, you should just know that you've been more like a member of this family than he has in the past few years."

"She knows that, Ma," Jane said with a shuddering breath. "You've got your doctor in the family now."

After a Rizzoli-Isles family group hug, Jane left to return prematurely to her apartment. She jokingly offered to let Maura drink as much of the beer as she wanted.

What with the revelation that Abby's nosing around had led to, Jane hadn't thought the evening could get any more intense or complicated. But then, drama had always been a staple of the Rizzoli clan, so why let fate stop Frank from crashing that night? It was all too much, and Jane was sure she'd want to talk to someone—maybe Frost—in the morning, but right now, she just wanted to be alone. After taking out Jo, Jane got ready for bed and tried to sleep. Usually if she was tired enough, she'd be out pretty fast, but she tossed and turned for nearly half an hour. Giving up, she reached for her laptop and tried to think of a way to entertain herself for a while.

It occurred to her that it had been a while since she'd checked out her dating profile. Maybe she ought to get rid of that, or at least respond to any recent messages. Useful a tool though the site had been at first, Jane didn't really feel like using it again any time soon. If there was anything in her inbox, maybe just respond with a quick no thanks and then log out, maybe indefinitely.

But the most recent message was from Kate Todd, and it had been sent three hours ago.

_Jane – _

_ I was going to call you, but I chickened out. I decided just to wrote you instead, and I hope you see this message. I've been in Concord visiting my brother. We were always close growing up, and I'd hoped to be able to talk through everything that happened, but he freaked out on me. I'm spending tonight in a hotel, then planning to stay with Abby while she's in Boston for a seminar. Please, if you don't still hate me, I really want to talk to you. I'll understand if the answer is no, but I promise there are no tricks up my sleeve. Think about it?_

Jane had already thought about it quite enough.

_Tomorrow, 2:00. I'll be at Maguire's shooting range. If you're there, maybe we can talk. _


	16. So, Good Talk

**A/N**: Okay so here's the thing, guys. I really should've had a more concrete idea of what I wanted this story's trajectory to be when I started it, because frankly, I don't find it very interesting to write anymore and I can't imagine it's interesting to read at this point. I do plan on finishing it, but know that it really is almost over- just a chapter or two left, and maybe an epilogue dealing with Kate's death (for those who would be interested).  
I'm sorry for the wait- on that note, **I might recommend skimming the previous chapter **to re-catch yourself up on the conversation Jane and Maura had.  
Ah, well. Almost done!

* * *

_I just pulled up. Are you here? _

Kate's finger hovered over her phone, preparing to send the message, but she quickly deleted it and just got out of her car. It was a little after 2:00, the time when Jane had said she would be at the shooting range Kate had just arrived at. She went inside, rented a shotgun, and was led to the firing range. Finding Jane was quick work; she was towards the end of the line, preparing to fire.

There was that strange sensation again, some relative of desire stirring in Kate's stomach. She had always rolled her eyes at Tony's insistence that a woman wielding a gun was sexy, but Jane Rizzoli lining up a shot was just further evidence to back his point. Kate had seen countless other female agents, and her fair share of female cops, but there was something uniquely stunning about Jane. It was everything from her comfortable but steady stance to her trained, determined gaze. It was her tall legs and long arms and muscles visibly tightening as she shot the weapon, sure and steady. She was breathtaking.

When the targets were brought forward, Jane glanced at the doorway and saw Kate standing there. A smile couldn't quite work its way to her lips, so she nodded, and Kate slowly walked over.

"Not bad," she said, looking at the bullet holes which had perforated the center of the target. "Impressive even."

"Guess so," Jane snorted. "I've always been good at target practice."

"Me too. Were you as surprised as I was?"

"About what?"

"How unhelpful it is. I mean, it's good to know you can shoot on target, but..."

"There are so many other elements at play when you're in the moment," Jane said, and Kate nodded. "The light, whether or not you've been wounded, whether you've got anything to hide behind, whether you've got a partner, whether it's an ambush and you're on edge..."

Kate laughed dryly. "Yeah. Still...doesn't hurt to keep it in practice, though."

"Practice," Jane muttered, leaning against the barrier as new targets were put into place. "I need practice."

"On the contrary, Detective Rizzoli. You seem exceedingly apt at work and at play."

With a hollow laugh, Jane said, "I always thought it might be fun to bring a girl here. I could do that cheesy thing that guys do in movies where they help the girl's stance or whatever, just as an excuse to get close to her."

"I had a guy try that with me at a pool hall when I was in college," Kate said. "I rammed the back end of cue stick in his groin."

"Ouch!" Jane laughed. "Well, I'd certainly know better than to try something with you here, anyway. You probably know what you're doing, huh? Care to take a turn?"

"Watch and learn, slacker," Kate chuckled, pulling on her headphones.

When her results came back, Jane whistled in appreciation. "Nice formation, there."

"Thanks. I was always good, but Gibbs really helped cinch it. I'd only been working for him a while when he took my phone at a shooting range and tied it around my target."

"Sadist! Did you hit it?"

"Of course!"

"Too bad it didn't come with bullet insurance, huh?"

"No kidding."

Kate was about to ask if they could get out of there, but it seemed Jane had chosen this place as a meeting spot for a reason, and she went for another round. Kate turned down an offer to go again, happy for the moment to just watch Jane in action. Most of all she was grateful that Jane had been willing to see her, and was also being more than cordial—more than what Kate felt she deserved.

"Are you objectifying me, Agent Todd?" Jane asked, lowering her headphones for the last time.

"I'm admiring your form," Kate tried.

Oh gosh, that smile was adorable. "That what they call it these days?" Jane caught Kate's eye, and Kate just shrugged with a grin. "Look, um... I guess it's kinda late for lunch, but do you wanna maybe grab coffee or something? Just coffee, so we can, um... talk."

"I'd love that."

Driving in their own cars, Jane led the way to a local diner that brewed the best coffee away from the Division Cafe. Most of the lunch crowd had dispersed by then, giving them some degree of privacy. Once they'd been served, Jane decided it was her turn to start the conversation.

"So," she said somberly. "You said in your message that you had talked to your brother."

"Big mistake, apparently," Kate sighed.

"What happened?"

"I told him about my assignment to date you, and how I'd wound up enjoying your—ah—company more than I had anticipated."

"Didn't take it well?"

"Nope," Kate said, trying to laugh. "Not at all. I thought I could talk to him because—well, he hasn't always had the easiest time staying within the, um... moral parameters set for us by our parents. He knows how it feels to be judged, and have people think poorly of his choices—or actions, I mean actions. So I thought it'd be good to talk to him about it, but he was really not okay with it."

Jane tried to imagine Frankie or Tommy giving her grief about her sexuality, and nearly shivered at the thought. You grew up bonded to your siblings, through better and worse, and imagining one of them being disgusted with you was difficult to bear. Not that it was any easier than a parent expressing that disappointment.

"Got a similar reaction from my dad last night," Jane said gruffly, cupping her mug of coffee with both hands and staring into its depths. "We don't see him much; none of us have been in much contact since he walked out on my mother a few years back. He was my idol growing up, though. He was like Superman to me, you know? And I wanted him in my life, I wanted to forgive him. I—I _still _want to forgive him, so bad, for what he did to my mom. And I think I might have, but he came by last night and just sort of blew his top."

"You told him upfront?"

"No, that's almost the worst thing about it. I didn't even get to break it to him, Ma did. He'd called to find out what was going on with everyone, I guess, and she told him." Jane laughed bitterly. "Oh, I'd love to know how that conversation went." She put on her parents voices: "'So Angela, how is my special girl, Jane?' 'Oh she's just fine, Frank! She decided to become a lesbian, so good job letting her play all those sports as a kid and not having her do ballet like I asked!'"

"Your mother's all right with it though, isn't she?" Kate asked.

Jane shrugged. "Yeah, she's been cool about it. I think she always kinda knew, she just didn't press it. Apparently, she's been gunning for me and Maura to get together for a while." She cleared her throat, not quite wanting to address that aspect yet. "Is there anyone else in your family who might be okay hearing about it? Or friends, have you got friends you could talk to?"

"I might try my sister. She lives in West Chester."

"New York?"

"Philadelphia. It was just a conversation I wanted to have in person, not over the phone, and my brother was closer."

"I see."

"I do have one friend at work who's been really helpful, though." Kate finally smiled again. "I talked to her obsessively after my dates with you."

Jane smiled back. "You talked to one of your friends about me?"

"Oh, yeah," Kate said, her tone sufficiently stoking Jane's ego. "Abby and I always talk about the people we date, and she sort of helped me out with you. I mean, I was really—you made me really nervous. I was so sure I was going to screw up."

"Screw up your assignment?" Jane clarified.

"No, screw up _being _with you. Frankly, I didn't think the assignment would work. I didn't think I could get close enough to you in time to make you comfortable telling me about Paddy Doyle."

"But you went along with it anyway."

"Ever seen _Lord of the Rings_, Jane?"

"Yes..."

"Do you remember the scene where Boromir says 'one does not simply walk into Mordor'?"

"Eh, sort of?"

"Where's Tony when I need him?" Kate muttered, though clearly amused. "Anyway, one does not simply ignore an order from Gibbs. And besides, like I've said, I really was intrigued by you, Jane. I wanted to know how it would feel to date you."

"And how _was _that?"

"Well first of all, you made an exceptionally good first impression, which is obviously key," Kate said. "But even more importantly, you exceeded that first impression each time we met. Sometimes a date is just a means to an end, right? I mean I'm sure we've both been there."

"Yeah," Jane muttered. "That's kinda where I was at before I met you."

Given Jane's serious tone, Kate wasn't quite sure how to address that. She continued the thought she'd started a moment ago: "It's fun sometimes, going out and being made to feel sexy, all that. But you made me feel more. It's something that hasn't happened a whole lot for me in my dating experience. I really felt like you were present. I felt interesting and cared about."

Jane leaned over the table a bit. "Just to clarify, though: I _did _make you feel sexy, too, right?"

Kate smirked. "Totally. That's what was so surprising."

"Oh hey, speaking of surprises, your friend Abby actually dropped by Maura's place last night."

"_What?_"

"Yeah. I happened to walk in later, and she got very paranoid, like she thought I was dating Maura and had been two-timing you, even though _I _was the one who was actually getting played. Technically."

"Oh, no..."

"It's okay. I mean I don't think we really managed to set her straight, but I just wanted to tell you that. You _definitely _have an ally in Abby. And Gibbs, too."

"Gibbs? How can you know that? The man's about as transparent as a cement wall."

"Walls crack a bit now and then. He gave me a copy of McGee's first book and basically told me to read the paragraph that introduces your character. Your team thinks very highly of you, Kate. That's valuable."

"Um...thanks. Wow, I ask you here to apologize to you, and you're the one trying to make me feel better?"

"You were doing your job," Jane said quietly. "I'd have done the same thing in your place, sorry to say. It sucks, but there you have it."

"Are you still angry at me?" Kate asked. Jane waited a moment, then slowly shook her head. "So..." She bit her lip and raised her eyebrows hopefully.

Jane's smile looked a little defeated. "You're going back to D.C. after Abby's conference, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And I'm staying here." Jane shrugged.

"Is that the only reason?"

"No. I really liked you, Kate. A lot. And I was totally ready to help you through these new, uh, experiences. And in some way I still can't really explain, I think I needed you. You came into my life at just the right time, to sort of help me stop hiding." She laughed, trying to boost the spirit of their conversation back up. "You were _that _irresistible. I saw you, I talked to you, and I just couldn't leave it there. Something snapped into gear, and I knew I had to contact you right away, definitely for something more than a hook-up. Talk about good first impressions."

Kate smiled, still genuinely touched that she had helped Jane move out of the closet. She was also profoundly glad that she had decided to be straightforward with Jane about her mission, rather than high-tailing it back to D.C. without a word.

"All that, and yet...?"

Draining a bit more of her coffee, Jane's smile faded. "I'd been avoiding a lot of things, I guess. I accepted that I was attracted to women, but I wasn't ready to accept that the woman I'd already fallen for was what right in front of my eyes every day. My best friend."

"Maura?"

"Maura."

"Is that what caught your eye about me at the Merch?"

"At first, yeah. But you and Maura are two really different people. Both cool, but very different. You're not interchangeable."

Kate smiled bracingly. "That's good to know, I guess!" An awkward silence settled between them for a few moments, and Jane finished off her coffee. Kate sighed. "Just don't wait too long then, okay?"

"To what?"

"To tell her." Kate swallowed. "Tell her how you feel."

"She kind of has an idea already," Jane said, scratching the back of her head. "We had a talk after Abby left last night. Seems like I wasn't the only one harboring feelings."

Hearing this made Kate feel oddly sad. She had no claim on Jane; even if their dating hadn't come about as part of an assignment, they'd never decided to make things exclusive. She shouldn't take it personally that Jane had very strongly developed feelings for someone else—someone who lived in her city, someone who she was close to, someone she could trust. Still, it hurt a bit, even if Kate acknowledged she had no right to feel that way. Her heart was having a hard time keeping up with her head.

"Kate?"

"Hm?"

"Don't give up on yourself, either. If you wanna keep pursuing the uh, 'lesbionic' lifestyle, don't be deterred by all this."

"Are you going to give me the 'it isn't you, it's me' send-off?"

"No, I'm giving the you-dated-me-as-an-undercover-cop, and we-live-in-different-cities, and it-would-be-dishonest-of-me-to-keep-going-out-with -you send-offs," Jane said, not unkindly. "You're a hot cop. Use that to your advantage! Lots of ladies go nuts for that, trust me."

Kate laughed out loud. "Oh, wow. I don't know if I could handle lots. You may be a unique circumstance in my life, Jane."

"Well, if that's how you feel about it. Either way, I think you're gonna end up just fine in the relationship department."

"Thank you. I hope things work out for you, too."

They left a few minutes later, Jane needing to return to work. She walked Kate to her car, falling into stride next to her. It would be a lie for Jane to say she wasn't curious about what might have happened between the two of them in another time and place. But knowing how Maura felt about her made it difficult for Jane to see any other woman as a potential dating partner.

When they reached Kate's car, Jane stooped down to kiss her on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, Agent Todd."

In response, Kate held out her arms for a hug, and Jane obligingly returned it. "You too, Detective Rizzoli."

They pulled apart, and Jane said, "You've still got my number, yeah?"

"Yes, and you have mine?"

"Yup. So, y'know, call if you ever need to, uh..." (Kate couldn't help imagining that if Tony was there, he'd have suggested, _"get off?"_). As it was, Jane somewhat more politely ended, "Talk to someone."

"You are a class act, Jane Rizzoli. Thank you."

"My pleasure, Kate. Guess maybe I'll be seeing you, or... talking to you, anyway?"

"I guess maybe you will."


End file.
